


Tempest

by shamusiel



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: A lot of sex, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Pirates, Sirens, Slow Burn, Trans Dande | Leon, definitely not that historically accurate, no pokemon in this au sorry everyone!, other monsters idk, they fall in love i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 85,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22962820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamusiel/pseuds/shamusiel
Summary: When the feared Champion of the Seas meets the fierce, troubled captain of the Wyrmwind, the world seems to shift. A rivalry brews between them, a hatred that seems one-sided, and for years they are constantly drawn to one another until feelings of anger, hate, misunderstanding, and raw passion may turn into something more, more, more.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 140
Kudos: 446





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the wishes i've made are too vicious to tell, the devil already he [knows me so well](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdBd_RDuCMc).

_There is muffled breathing beneath his palm, hot tears soaking his fingers, heavy boots pounding against the wooden floorboards just above where the two brothers hide. Leon remains hovering over his brother, keeps him pressed to the dirt, makes sure his ears are covered as the soldiers yell at his mother who remains stone-faced and steadfast. He shouldn't hear this, any of this._

_Three loud bangs, the smell of gunpowder. Leon can feel himself crying but swallows a sob down. Even when he hears the thud of bodies slumping to the floor. Even when blood drips through the cracks of the floorboards._

_"Find the children," one of the soldiers snaps. And Leon drags his brother through the dirt, out of the cellar door and he runs, runs, runs with Hop on his back. There is shouting, boots clicking against stone streets, and Leon's blood is rushing in his ears, he runs as fast as his legs will carry him, he doesn't know if he can make it, doesn't know if he can outrun the guards, wonders if he's going to die, if Hop is going to die, if he's going to fail to protect the very last person he loves, if he's—_

Leon wakes up.

Sweating and alone in the dark of his cabin, his breathing heavy. There is only the sound of the ocean now, gentle waves rocking the ship.

He buries his face in his hands and cries, silent and painful.

—

**_June, 1734._ **

"Have you slept?"

A hand lands on his shoulder, snapping Leon out of his daze. He blinks once, twice, then squints out at the vast expanse of the ocean, but he won't look at Sonia who is currently boring holes into him with her sharp yet worried gaze.

The sounds of his crew talking and walking across the deck, the ocean waves, sails flapping in the breeze—everything is so muted to his ears now. Leon could easily blame it on the exhaustion, but that would require him actually admitting he's exhausted. But Sonia can always tell, she's clever and perceptive, and she worries even if he insists she shouldn't.

When he doesn't respond she drops her hand.

"Is it the nightmares?" She asks, her voice low enough only to be heard by him.

She always, always knows.

"Mm," he hums. He'd rather not think of his nightmares right now, or talk about them, or even acknowledge them at all. Nightmares, memories, all the same to him nowadays. Those dreams verging too far into reality, making him question his sanity. Leon takes a deep breath of the sea air. Time to do what he does best: dodge the question. "How far from Glimwood are we?"

"Hop said about two more days of sailing, if the weather's on our side."

And the weather certainly has been unpredictable as of late. Today, the sun is merciless, but only a few days prior there was a brutal storm that nearly damaged the masts—Leon himself had to climb up to secure the rigging. It knocked them off course, tacking on a few more days to their journey. Their goal was to stop at Glimwood for supplies, which are severely dwindling. Unless they can intercept a Navy ship, they'll have to begin properly rationing.

"Good," Leon breathes out. In a brief moment of vulnerability, he reaches up, digging his palm onto one tired eye. It's a little annoying, these nightmares. It's been years, he's eighteen now, almost nineteen in a month, and he has so many other things to focus on: his brother, his crew, making sure he's a constant thorn in the king's side.

"Leon," she says softly, making him tense. "I just want you to be well. Everyone does."

"I am," he replies a little too quickly. "It was just one sleepless night."

"Among many others," she grumbles.

It isn't that her concern isn't appreciated, but this is a subject he'd like to avoid for as long as possible. Maybe forever, or at least until he bursts.

He just waves his hand. "When we reach our destination, maybe we can talk."

"Leon—"

"I'm your captain," Leon bites out, making her startle. "You would do well to listen to me. Your spoilt upbringing is showing. Now, go check our supplies." Even though he already checked their supplies himself this morning, he's just trying to get her to… leave him alone, or stop pressing him for answers he doesn't want to give. Sonia gives him a dirty look, then turns swiftly on her heel and leaves.

To be the most feared pirate in the seas while also carrying all these secrets, all this hurt, is quite a heavy burden to bear. It’s for the best no one sees that, knows that, because he has a reputation to uphold and he needs to remain strong for his crew. For Hop, who has climbed into the crow’s nest with his spyglass to observe their surroundings, but Leon knows there is nothing but ocean around them for miles.

Or, so he thinks.

When he’s about to retreat to his quarters again, to maybe busy himself with one of the books Sonia gave him to practice, he hears Hop’s voice high above them.

“A boat!” He calls. “Up ahead! It looks unmanned—”

An unmanned boat? This far out into the sea?

Leon quickly moves across the ship, his boots thudding against the steps up to the forecastle deck. He leans over the edge of the boat, peering out across the water until he sees a dark speck some distance ahead. It’s just floating aimlessly, he sees no signs of movement. It’s small, possibly only fit for three men—fishermen, maybe. Pulling out his own spyglass, he looks closer. No, nothing there. Leon, for a moment, considers telling the crew to just move on, to ignore it, but he thinks that there might be supplies they could rummage up from it.

When they get closer, close enough that Leon can make out details without his spyglass, he says, “Get close, slow down.”

The crew jumps into action, working to adjust the sails so the ship begins to slow before they reach the wayward boat. Leon moves back to the main deck quickly, and it takes a few minutes before they’re beside the boat and—

Ah, what is that?

Curiosity makes Leon move before anyone else does, throwing a rope down the edge of the ship and then climbing down himself. Two of his crewmates follow.

The second he steps onto the boat, he’s hit with the stench of death, of rot, of piss and shit. He has to stop himself from gagging, shielding his nose with his sleeve as he looks down at the bloated body before him. Just a normal fisherman. His pallid skin is burned red from the sun, his shirt is torn and his gut looks like it’s been picked open by the birds. It probably was. The body isn’t showing signs of too much decay, however, which makes Leon think he hasn’t been dead for very long.

The storm from the other day must have blown the boat far from shore, they must have lost control and then died later from the heat that came after the storm.

Years of this life doesn’t mean Leon enjoys death or looking upon the dead. His stomach turns and he finally steps over the body.

“Ah, Captain,” one of his men calls to him from the cabin. Leon jerks his head up, then quickly walks towards the cabin and steps in beside the other.

Two men are huddled inside, looking sick and pale, sunburned with chapped lips, trembling from what Leon can assume is fear and hunger. They’re alive, though, which is definitely much better condition than the man whose body still lies rotting outside. Leon stares at them and they stare back, and then he takes a step forward. Keeping a generous amount of distance between them, Leon kneels down.

“English?” He asks. While they don’t speak, one of them nods. “Do you know who we are?”

After another moment of silence, one of the men says, “Pirates.”

“Saviors,” Leon corrects. He inches a bit closer, making the men tense. “How did you find yourself all the way out here?”

“The storm,” one of them says, affirming Leon’s theory. “Most of our supplies was destroyed. Peter died up top hoping he’d see anyone who could help, but we’re so far out, we…”

“What’s important,” Leon says, keeping his voice firm, “Is that you’re both alive, and we can take you to shore.” The men look hesitant, so Leon adds, “Or we could just leave you to die.”

“No, no, we’ll come, just… don’t hurt us. We’ll give you everything we have left.”

It makes Leon furrow his brows. Of course, of course they would automatically assume that pirates would try to kill them. Lucky for them, he has no quarrel with anyone who is in need, especially not simple fishermen who found themselves stranded at sea after a storm. So long as they don’t try to attack him or any of his men, he won’t bring them any harm.

“We’re low on supplies. You said most of yours was destroyed, but any you have left is appreciated,” Leon says. “That’s all. When we reach Glimwood—”

“Glimwood?” The men say in unison. Leon frowns. Glimwood doesn’t have the best reputation among sailors, but it’s a haven for pirates, built by and for them on an island that the Royal Navy knows to stay well enough away from.

“No one will hurt you there. In fact, I’m sure you’ll find a better life there than you had before!” And he beams then, large and bright and charming, and he immediately sees the men relax.

The next few minutes are spent getting the men onto the ship and gathering their remaining supplies. It’s only a bit of food and some blankets, but anything helps. Before Leon departs from the boat, he looks down at the dead body still lying there. Bad luck to simply throw the body overboard, but Leon doesn’t feel right just leaving him there, but he has no real choice.

What he does do is kneel before the body, pray for his soul and that he’s found his way to God safely, and that Leon will make sure his men remain safe.

Death is cold and cruel. It never gets easier.

—

That night, while the crew sits and welcomes the two men rescued earlier, Leon sits in his quarters with Sonia. His red setter Cora is curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed, fast asleep. Right beside her is Sonia’s corgi, Yampy. He and Sonia are at his desk, Sonia has a book of poems open on top of it and is making him read off the pages to her. It’s Shakespeare, she told him once she enjoys Shakespeare quite a bit, but he has to wonder if it’s the best choice to help him get better with his reading.

“You’re looking troubled again,” Sonia says, smacking his hand. “What is it now?”

“Thinking,” Leon replies. “If we had been just a day later, those men would have joined their friend.”

Those men introduced themselves as James and Matthew once they got onto the ship. When Leon introduced himself, he could see the fear flash in their eyes, because they couldn’t believe _the_ infamous Captain Leon Khanna was allowing them onto his ship, _saving their lives._ He knows what is said about him, he does little to stop those rumors, but it is a bit irritating to deal with when he’s trying to get two half-dead men to trust him.

“Yes, but we _weren’t_ a day later, and we found them. That should be what matters most.”

She’s right. Leon toys with his quill, working his jaw. He looks up, knows that the crew is giving them a warm welcome after they had gotten some food into their starved bellies. Maybe, with some convincing, Leon could get them to join. The Champion Time could always use more additions to the crew. It’s a big ship, with so much space that is still unused. A former Royal Navy ship, stolen just a little over a year ago when Leon was only seventeen.

_“The Champion of the Sea is only a boy?” The admiral spits as Leon stands above him, the tip of his rapier at his throat. “To think I’d fall to a rowdy, filthy, flea-bitten chi—”_

_The rapier is shoved into the man’s throat, then pulled out moments later. Blood sprays across his coat, he chokes and gurgles, desperately trying to breathe, a shaking hand grabbing at the wound at his throat. Leon just stands and watches as the life fades from his eyes, as he goes limp._

“I’m considering having them join,” Leon says. He stares down at the pages of the book. They’re reading Macbeth now. Macduff has just discovered Duncan’s body. Leon’s brain flashes back to hours prior when he first laid eyes on the dead man lying there on that fishing boat. The body he just… left. Hopefully, his angered spirit won’t follow him. “They have nowhere else to go.”

“Always so helpful,” Sonia sighs. “Let them get their strength back, they’re hardly coherent enough to make that decision. Now,” and she kicks him beneath the desk, but he doesn’t react. “Read.”

So he bows his head over the book and recites back to her what he just read.

—

A day and a half later they reach Glimwood when the sun is still high in the sky. They just barely managed to ration the rest of their food until then, so it’s a relief that they got there without any more complications. Leon sweeps his hair back over his shoulders and places his hat on, adjusts his coat, and descends the stairs to the docks once they lay anchor with his dog at his side.

Word already spreads fast through the island that the _Champion Time_ has arrived. Leon can practically feel the buzz in the air before he even leaves the docks. It fills him with a sense of pride, knowing _he_ and _his_ crew are able to have that sort of effect on others. That they’re able to cause one of the largest pirate havens to erupt into both a mix of fear and excitement.

Hop pops up beside him. Leon glances down at him, his lips quirking upward into a fond smile. His brother is only twelve, but he’s just as cunning as any of the older men on the ship. Leon raised him to be that way, after all. There are stars in the boy’s eyes as he looks upon the island, a childlike wonder, which does amuse Leon somewhat. It’s not like it’s Hop’s first time here at Glimwood.

And while Glimwood is, for the most part, safe so long as you’re smart, he’s still a bit hesitant to let Hop run off. Their bond is no secret, and they both know that to get to Leon, the easiest way is to do something to Hop. Anyone here could use that to their advantage if they see the boy on his own.

“Hop,” Leon says, catching his brother’s arm before he can take off running. “Stay with Sonia.”

“Lee,” Hop whines. “I’ll be fine, I have my dagger! I remember what you taught me!”

Leon gives him a pointed stare. There is a minute tightening of his grip around Hop’s arm. Then he steps closer and puts his arm around his shoulders. “When you’re older and better with a sword, you can run around as much as you like. It’ll just put your dear older brother at ease knowing you aren’t alone here.”

Hop grumbles under his breath, huffs, and then nods. “Okay. Where is Sonia, anyway?”

“Right here,” comes her familiar voice as she approaches them from behind. “Don’t go too fast, Hop. My old bones can only keep up so much.”

“You’re only eighteen!” Hop laughs. “Don’t get lost, Lee!” Then he bolts. Sonia gives Leon what’s intended to be an intimidating, angry stare but it only makes him snicker, then she charges after the boy and practically tackles him to the ground the second he’s on land.

Leon makes sure his sword is at his hip and his pouch is heavy with gold before he makes his way off of the docks. He can’t even be angry at Hop’s jab at his sense of direction because he knows it’s true. But he thinks he can _sort_ of navigate Glimwood himself without getting _too_ lost. Cora helps a lot, though. She bumps her nose against his gloved hand, and he rubs her behind the ears.

The thing about Glimwood is it’s not _just_ a haven for pirates. It’s for their families, it’s for people in need, it’s for people escaping countries that would rather see them dead than ever help them. It’s a rowdy place, certainly, but there is still a sense of peace among all of that. Rarely any fights break out, there is respect—even if some of that respect might be begrudging, depending on who you are. Leon definitely has a few people with grudges on him, but it’s to be expected.

As most of his crew work on purchasing more supplies to transport back to the ship, as his brother runs off to explore with Sonia in tow, Leon makes his way someplace familiar. It’s a small shack surrounded by different plants and glowing mushrooms, sitting near the sand, away from the rest of the buildings.

Making Cora wait outside, he steps in. Behind the counter is… someone he doesn’t recognize. A young boy, possibly around Hop’s age. His pale blonde hair is a mess of curls, his violet eyes turning to focus on Leon, then his lips twist into a frown and Leon _really_ doesn’t like the look on his face. A boy with a bad attitude, then?

Leon takes a few steps forward. “Evening. Where is she?”

“Where is who?” The boy replies, snide. Leon quirks a brow. If this were a grown man, Leon might give him a glimpse of his blade as a warning, but he refuses to threaten or harm children. He takes in a deep breath.

“The witch,” he replies coolly.

The boy turns away and snorts, going back to organizing the shelves.

Leon slams his fist down on the counter, making the boy jump and nearly drop the glass bottle in his hand. He whips around to glare at Leon. “Who do you th—”

“Bede,” a woman’s voice cuts him off, sharp and cold. From the back door does she enter, her steps slow and a little wobbly. The witch, Opal, who Leon has grown to know very well the past few years, because she’s the one who supplies him with something… extremely important to him. Not only did they stop in Glimwood for regular supplies, but for _that_ too. “That is a _good friend._ Treat him well, feel lucky he’s kind enough not to slice your throat for disrespect!”

Bede shrinks away, turning his head, and silently goes back to his organizing.

Opal turns to Leon fully. Her smile is sly, sharp, cutting across her wrinkled face. “You’ve grown a beard,” she says, daring to reach out and touch her long fingers against said beard, carefully trimmed and well-maintained. “It suits you. Makes you look more like the man you really are.”

“Thanks to you,” he says with a little smile.

“Your voice is different, too. That wasn’t all me, I know.”

“I did some training,” he replies, one of his hands coming up to touch his throat. “Anyway, you know why I’m here. I’m… almost out.”

“Yes, yes. Getting right to the point, are you? Patience, child.” She turns and grabs that ‘Bede’ boy by the shoulder and says something to him, her voice too low for Leon to hear. When she turns back to him and Bede slinks off to the tiny room in the back, Leon watches the boy go.

“He’s… new,” he says.

“I’m not getting any younger, Leon,” she says. “I need someone to take my place. And, you know…” She grins. “He’s like you.”

“Is he?” Leon says, tilting his head. “Isn’t that something.”

A moment later, Bede returns with a heavy wooden chest in his arms. It looks too heavy for him to carry, Leon can see his arms trembling a bit before he finally places it on the counter with a heavy thud.

“It should get you through the next few months,” Opal says, patting the top of the chest. Her sharp nails tap against the wood. “Don’t make me wait too long to see you again, Leon.”

“Thank you,” Leon says, fishing a handful of gold pieces out and placing them on the counter. He flashes her a smile, even gives Bede one even though it isn’t returned, and with a grunt of effort, he lifts the chest up and manages to cradle it in one arm. Opal seems like a regular medicine seller or loony old crone to most, but he’s aware she’s capable of magic most only hear stories about. If it weren’t for her, he knows he’d look and feel much different than he does now.

He’s grateful to her, he always will be.

As he passes by a tavern on his journey back to the ship, he hears singing coming loudly from within. Not surprising people are already drinking at this time a day, well before dark. Leon thinks he’ll join them once he gets this chest onto the ship, he hasn’t afforded himself the luxury of drinking in quite a while, even with his crew.

Ahead, just before the docks, he can see a small group of men, and then he hears yelling.

Once he gets closer, he sees a few of those men are his own. The others he doesn’t recognize. They’re fighting about… something, Leon can’t quite catch what, but what Leon does know is it’s going to get violent quickly. He sees the signs, the tightening of muscles, the gritting of teeth, and someone is suddenly drawing their blade.

Leon moves quickly. The chest is set on the ground, guarded by Cora, and he draws his own blade. Before anyone can even begin to shed blood, he’s disarming the man who first drew his sword. It’s one of his own. He gives him a withering stare, one that makes the man shrink back, looking away. Then he whips around to see the opposite crew staring at him incredulously, who then back away when he turns his sword to them.

“You all should know better to not spill blood here,” he snaps. “Where is your sense of solidarity? Or do you enjoy acting like animals?”

No response. He’s sure they already feel plenty humiliated being scolded by the _Champion of the Seas._

Then he feels another presence, larger than his own. A stare boring into the back of his head. Leon doesn’t falter, but he does lower his sword.

“What’s going on?” The stranger asks, his voice low with a gravelly edge. It almost sends a chill up Leon’s spine. “What are you doing to my crew?”

Leon turns around. Golden eyes meet eyes blue as the ocean they spend their lives on, and something in the air shifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (screams) OKAY
> 
> first off: shout out to ally for planting the seed by literally just saying "pirate au" and then my brain took it and fucking ran. another shout out to seb for giving me Juicy Pirate Facts, and also for the title of the fic and name of raihan's ship. shout out to everyone that's been screaming about this au to me on discord and twitter since i started tweeting about it LOL
> 
> sorry they haven't really met just yet, i wanted to establish leon's character a bit more and also... heh. Suspense.
> 
> if you follow me on twitter you know a little of what's coming next! i'm really excited to write this au. i hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> also, here's some art joseph/tinypalettes on twitter based off the thread i made about the au. some mild spoilers for the next chapter though!!! [Look At It Right Now](https://twitter.com/tinypalettes/status/1232821571099799554)
> 
> also yes, this fic takes place in The Real World lmao
> 
> thanks for reading!  
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)  
> [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raihan’s already spent so much of his life trying to prove himself to everyone. To prove his worth. To prove he’s right for this role. And yet he’s still shown up by this man who has been a part of this dangerous and daring life for much less time than he has, and Raihan hates him so much even though he’s never met him.
> 
> If he’s lucky, it’ll stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all reason flown, as God looks on in [abject apathy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HcBvm0O-UU).
> 
> ( this chapter contains explicit sexual content. )

"Time to get out of the water." With hands braced against the rails, Raihan leans over the edge of the ship to look down at the woman swimming alongside it. He sees her turn her head and squint at him, before giving him a rude gesture and diving back underneath the surface.

Nessa keeps up with the ship easily. Not a surprise given what's in her blood, but Raihan can't help but worry about her falling victim to sharks or whatever other creatures the ocean has to offer. Something about her seems to ward them away though, there haven't ever been any issues.

He keeps an eye on her as she swims, occasionally breaking the surface and looking around. Raihan huffs out a sigh. "Nessa. It's been long enough."

At least an hour in the water every day, they agreed. Nessa needs it for her health.

She looks back up at him, rolls her eyes, and says, "Fine."

Raihan tosses a rope down so she can climb up, and once she steps on deck she's dripping water everywhere. Nessa pushes her wet braids out of her face and beams at him, smug, knowing she's not the one who has to clean up the mess _she's_ making.

"Can you—" Raihan's voice is a little hoarse, a little exasperated. "Not… drip everywhere?"

"Do you really think I can control that?" She shoots back. She tugs at the soaked fabric of her shirt, sticking to her skin, and Raihan knows it can't be too comfortable for her—but he told her it's better she doesn't swim bare. For her sake. Nessa understood why even if Raihan didn't say it, but that doesn't mean she likes it.

Call it a protective urge on Raihan's part. She may be the Quartermaster, capable of fending for herself, but he can't really help the feeling. He's always been protective of her since they first met.

_A young girl shielded from the harsh sun by the long-dead body of a man, stuck on a boat in the middle of the sea, lured in by monsters. A young Raihan climbs over the edge of the boat, sopping wet, and she stares at him with frightened eyes._

_He holds his hand out. "I’m here to sa—"_

_She lets out a hiss far from human and scrambles back, knocking the body off of her with surprising strength._

_What is she?_

Raihan watches her as she walks across the deck, leaving a trail of water behind her, and disappears below. He eyes the puddles with annoyance, then heaves out a sigh and catches the passing cabin boy to have him clean the mess up.

When he looks out across the sea again he feels a sense of peace. The storm just a few days ago was harsh, but now the skies are clear and the waves are calm. They will be reaching Glimwood soon, where they’ll be spending a day or two before departing. Sacks of sugar they had stolen from a trade ship, at least the few they didn’t destroy, sit below deck and will go for a hefty sum on the island, enough to restock their supplies for a good while.

There is an odd feeling in his gut, though, when he thinks of Glimwood. Like something is going to happen; bad or not, he isn’t sure. There is nothing to worry about, as far as he’s concerned. The rest of the voyage will go smoothly, they have already veered out of trade routes for the time being, and the Navy doesn’t like getting too close to Glimwood at all. Like they’re afraid—which they should be.

Raihan unties the bandanna from around his head and wipes the sweat from his brow, then stuffs it into his pocket. Finally, he goes below deck. The downside of their recent raid was there was one man injured, who landed wrong on his leg, broke it, and has been refusing to sit still and allow them to set the bone into place. Raihan thinks he might as well take matters into his own hands, because they all know that the poor bastard might lose his leg if he doesn’t let them treat it as quickly as possible.

—

There is plenty of struggle. Once they get enough alcohol into the man, he’s more willing to submit. Then Raihan shoves a piece of leather in between his teeth, and they get to work. Both of his hands take hold of the broken limb, bent at an awkward angle. One crewmate holds him still, and Raihan wastes no time in twisting the limb. There is a cracking sound, the man yelps around his mouthful, trying to squirm away but remaining held tightly in place. Quickly, they apply a splint. It will be enough until they reach Glimwood, where there will be a better doctor to handle the injury.

Raihan reaches over to pull the leather from the man’s mouth. He stares up at Raihan with wet, glassy eyes, his cheeks paled.

“Thank you, Captain,” he finally says, words slurred from the alcohol, and Raihan takes hold of his forearm and he does the same, giving it a firm shake. He allows himself to smile at his crewmate.

“Don’t move that leg too much,” Raihan says, gently tapping the knee of the injured leg. The skin is covered in ugly bruises. “We’ll arrive at Glimwood soon. Hold out until then.”

The man just nods shakily and then sags back on the cot, breathing heavily. The ship’s doctor gives Raihan a glance that tells him they’ll take it from here, and he bows his head then quietly takes his leave.

Nessa is waiting for him up top, sufficiently dried off and in a change of clothes, leaning over the edge of the ship to stare out across the ocean with what appears to be a longing look in her eyes. Raihan watches her for a moment, then steps up to her side and offers her a grin. “You’re doing it again.”

“Huh?” Nessa snaps her gaze towards him, then smiles sheepishly. “Ah, I’m sorry. I can’t help it sometimes.”

Raihan squints at her incredulously, then drops his voice low, “Wouldn’t it have been easier to go with her?”

She pauses, her lips turning downwards and brows furrowing. Under the light of the sun, Raihan can see the slight glimmer of dark blue scales on her elbows, on her shoulders where they peek out beneath her shirt collar. Nessa hates when people stare at them, always makes an effort to cover them as best as she can. She faces enough scrutiny from the crew already due to her heritage.

“No, I don’t think I could have really lived that life,” she says. “I just didn’t have the thirst for blood that she did.”

Raihan dares to reach over and pat her on the shoulder. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she gives him another smile and it makes him smile in return.

Thinking about it, he regards her as an older sister of sorts. Family. That’s right—she and the rest of the crew are his family now with his mum gone, with his father gone, leaving the command in Raihan’s hands. Two years since he was made captain at only seventeen. Raihan Kinsley, now nineteen, captain of the Wyrmwind. Everyone knows his name, they know he and his crew are fierce and formidable and one of the sharpest in the ocean. Second only to that damn—

Raihan shakes the thought away.

“The one good thing about what she did,” he says, “is that it brought you to us.”

“You’re horrible at comfort,” Nessa says with a laugh. She gives him a hearty smack on the back, making him jump. “Shouldn’t we start making preparations now? We’ll be at Glimwood in just a few hours’ time.”

—

It’s midday when they reach Glimwood.

It takes a few hours until they finish unloading the ship to distribute spoils taken from trade and Navy vessels, and the sun has already sunk below the horizon by the time they’re done. Raihan has Bea help the injured man into town, then he and Nessa make their way to the nearest tavern which is already booming with activity.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a drink,” Raihan says, looking down into his mug of ale. Nessa has already downed half of her own drink.

“Well, stop gawking at it and drink then,” she replies. So he does.

And after a few more drinks he’s sufficiently intoxicated, laughing too loud and falling all over himself, singing off-tune with the others in the tavern and then needing the more sober members of his crew to help him back to the ship, but not before he throws up all over the beach.

He’s going to regret this in the morning.

—

Raihan wakes up in his cabin with little memory of how he got there in the first place and his head pounding. The sunlight filtering in through the single window is too much—he screws his eyes shut, brings his palms up to them to rub them with a low groan. There is movement outside of the cabin, across the deck, which tells him some of his crew have returned back to the ship as well, though he’s sure some are still in town.

They aren’t leaving until tomorrow, though. The crew voted on it. So Raihan will have to occupy himself today somehow. Finally, he cracks his eyes open again and glares up at the ceiling. This is why he doesn’t drink often: once he starts he has trouble stopping, and then he feels like shit in the morning.

He sits up slowly, the room spinning, then seemingly on cue the door to his cabin opens. His golden fang digs into the soft flesh of his bottom lip. Nessa stands there, folding her arms over her chest. She definitely looks a little less worse for wear despite having drank as much as he did, which kind of annoys him. His large gray dog, Ludo, pushes past her legs to jump up onto the bed. Raihan reaches over to scratch him behind the ears.

“Okay, come on, up. Eat something,” she says, walking right over to his bed and practically shoving him onto the floor. Raihan grumbles loudly in protest, but pushes himself up to his feet. He finds he’s in the same clothes he wore the night before, excluding his jacket which hangs over the chair beside his desk, so he shoots Nessa a _look_ that has her huffing and walking out.

Changing into a clean change of clothes and making a note to do his washing of the others before they depart tomorrow, he finally steps out of his cabin. The sunlight is too bright, making his head pound further, and he can already tell his mood might be a little sour for the next few hours. Or until he eats something.

Food and water, right, definitely. That always helps. The fresh air will help, too, instead of cooping himself up in his cabin all day to nurse his headache away. No wonder so many people think he’s moody, even if he knows he isn’t, really. Or at least not too moody. Just… easily agitated.

The cook had prepared a meal for the crew already, though it’s mostly lukewarm by the time Raihan eats it. Better than nothing, right? It does make him feel a little better, settles the mild nausea in his belly. He won’t be drinking again tonight, even if his crew begs him to. They have to set sail tomorrow anyway, he wants to be in top condition by then.

For the next few hours, he helps out around the ship. Cleaning up the decks, organizing their supplies, small repairs from the little damage they took from the storm. Around the middle of the day, once he’s finished, he goes back into town. When he returns to the tavern, it isn’t to drink. Instead, he sits at the counter.

“Have you heard anything as of late?” He asks the barkeep in a low tone. She looks up with a quirked brow. “Any news?”

“Not too much,” she replies while eyeing a small puddle of alcohol left on the counter. Quickly, she wipes it up. “The King’s been real mad ‘bout trades bein’ disrupted. Apparently they might start changin’ the routes. Not like it’ll do much, yeah? The new maps’ll get here within a week, most likely.”

“Mm,” Raihan hums, rubbing a hand over his face. He hears the doors of the tavern slam open and someone rush inside. Behind him, there are hushed whispers he can’t entirely make out. “Anything else?”

“Nothin’ of interest. Are ya gonna get a drink or no?”

“No.” Still, he fishes out a few gold pieces and slides them her way. “Thanks anyway.”

When he stands, he finally takes notice of the excited buzz passing through the occupants of the tavern. Raihan tilts his head to one side to pick up the chatter growing in volume around him.

“The _Champion Time_ just arrived!” One man says to another. “Must mean the Champion of the Seas is here, right? I’ve never seen him. Heard he’s shorter in person.”

All of the muscles in Raihan’s body tense.

The _Champion Time._ The _Champion of the Seas._ He thinks his headache is starting to return and it isn’t from the alcohol this time. Every pirate, every sailor, every damn Brit _including_ the King knows who the Champion is. He’s famous, _infamous._ He and his crew. They call him ruthless, terrifying, relentless. He brings down enemy ships without batting an eye, he kills without hesitation. Strict yet kind to his crew and those in need, but harsh to everyone else.

 _Captain Leon Khanna._ A young man, not too much younger than Raihan, who clawed his way up the ranks in such a short amount of time to become the captain of his ship, to become the most feared pirate in all the oceans.

And he's never, ever lost. Not in a battle, not in a duel. Maybe not even in a damn game of cards. Never.

Raihan hates him. The reason Raihan and the Wyrmwind are considered _second_ best is because of Leon, and Raihan’s already spent so much of his life trying to prove himself to everyone. To prove his worth. To prove he’s right for this role. And yet he’s still shown up by this man who has been a part of this dangerous and daring life for much less time than he has, and Raihan hates him so much even though he’s never met him.

If he’s lucky, it’ll stay that way. He’ll probably see that damn ship at the port, though.

For a moment he _does_ consider getting a drink, but decides against it. He leaves the tavern, trying to ignore the whispers being passed along around him about the newest visitors to the island. Raihan would very much _not_ like to hear about it, or think about it.

A young boy nearly barrels him over, but Raihan side-steps easily. The boy keeps moving like he's in some sort of hurry, not even acknowledging the near-collision, his tiny violet ponytail bouncing with his movements, while a young woman with fiery orange curls rushes after him with a look of pure fond exasperation on her face.

It makes Raihan smile a little bit.

For a while he makes casual conversation with a one-eyed merchant, one who remarks that Raihan seems like a very troubled young man—something that Raihan ignores, immediately shifting the subject elsewhere. Like his crew, his ship, but he leaves out any information for their plans, their next destination.

You can trust people here, but at the same time you can’t _really_ trust them.

He bids the merchant farewell, then begins to make his way downhill towards the docks again. The wind blows the smell of the ocean towards him and he breathes it in, lets it soothe his nerves. There is nothing for him to worry about, nothing at all. They will be leaving tomorrow without any issues, life will go on as it always does. He rolls his shoulders back, straightens his spine, and keeps walking with a more confident stride.

Until he hears the sound of shouting coming from ahead as he closes in on the docks. There are voices he recognizes—voices from his crew. It makes him walk faster, almost running, his long legs carrying him through the streets easily. The shouting has stopped, suddenly, and he can see why now.

There is a man there, standing between his crew and what he assumes is another, with his back to Raihan. He has his weapon drawn, pointed towards Raihan’s men, and he’s shouting at them. Admonishing them. Something dark and hot bubbles up in Raihan’s belly, something like anger. Who is this stranger to scold his crew?

“What’s going on?” He says, voice rough as he approaches. “What are you doing to my crew?”

Immediately, the man whips around. Their eyes meet and realization hits Raihan the moment they do. Those eyes of molten gold—he’s heard stories, on occasion, of the Champion’s golden eyes. And with his attire, that heavy red coat, the pristine white cravat, that hat adorned with thin, golden chains, the mere way he _carries_ himself, Raihan knows.

_It’s him._

If it weren’t for the outfit, the weapon, the sharp look in his eyes, Raihan would have never guessed him to be a pirate. He’s incredibly well-groomed, his hair glossy, spilling down his back and over his shoulders, with his beard trimmed neatly; his face is a gentle one; his eyes are big, framed with long lashes. He’s… surprisingly pretty, as much as Raihan hates to admit it. But is this really the feared Champion of the Seas? This young doe-eyed man that looks more like a prince than a pirate? Raihan can’t believe it. Doesn’t want to believe it. It just makes his anger grow.

“Your crewmen,” Leon begins, “and _mine,_ were having a quarrel, you see. I stepped in before it got bloody.”

Raihan hates how kind his voice is, yet filled with some layer of arrogance, or maybe it’s just his imagination. Maybe his dislike is clouding his judgment.

“Who started it, then?” Raihan grits out.

“I don’t know,” Leon replies, his voice cool. “One of my men drew his weapon first, if that matters any bit to you. What happens with my crew is up to me; whether you punish yours is entirely up to you. I’ve said all I needed.” The blade in his hand is sheathed once more. Raihan eyes it, then turns his gaze up to Leon’s face. Leon is giving him a look that Raihan can’t quite parse, which makes Raihan burn with frustration.

“Is there anything else you need?” Raihan says, managing to keep his voice steady.

“Oh, no,” Leon says. He reaches up to adjust his hat. “Well, really, I was wondering who you are.”

Leon doesn’t know who he is, because of _course_ he doesn’t. Why would he know? He must think Raihan is below him, and why would he care about knowing people below him? Raihan’s hands clench into tight fists. He grits his back teeth and inhales through his nostrils.

“Raihan Kinsley,” he manages to reply. “Captain of the Wyrmwind.”

“Hm,” Leon hums. “I’ve heard of you. You’re very respected. A pleasure, truly.”

But is it?

Leon continues, “I’m Leon Kha—”

“I know who you are,” Raihan snaps. “We all do.”

The other man just raises his eyebrows and Raihan wants to knock the little grin forming on his face right off. But he has to remain relaxed for his men, he can’t lose his temper here. It would reflect badly on him, on his crew.

“No interest in being friendly, then,” Leon says with a sigh. “That’s unfortunate. You seem like a good man, even if you have a temper.”

“And you seem like an arrogant bastard,” Raihan shoots back. He takes a step forward, but Leon doesn’t step back. He stands his ground, tipping his chin up to keep their gazes locked. This is the man he’s hated for so long? “Who needs to mind his own. Prancing around looking like a noble snob. I’m sure the King—”

“I don’t,” Leon hisses suddenly, cutting Raihan off, “prance. And you won’t compare me to the likes of nobility.”

A sore spot. Raihan can tell by the look in his eye, the tone of his voice.

“Then show me you’re not like them,” Raihan says. “Let’s have a duel. I want to see if you’re truly everything everyone says you are.”

There is a stretch of silence. Leon looks Raihan up and down, brows furrowed but his expression otherwise inscrutable. Then he looks back at the crewmen watching them closely, who look on with fear, confusion, excitement. Finally, the other man heaves out another sigh and a smile stretches across his lips.

“Fine. I accept your challenge, Captain Kinsley.” Leon takes a few steps back to start with some distance between them. The crewmen move away to the sidelines. He’s drawing his sword now, which gleams in the sunlight. Raihan exhales through his nose, then does the same.

Maybe he doesn’t really understand what he’s getting himself into. Maybe he is severely underestimating the man before him, the man who he’s heard so many tales about, but he refuses to believe it until he sees it himself. Refuses to believe he’s continuously overshadowed by a man who looks and acts like that.

They both bow, and then it begins.

Leon moves fast, faster than Raihan expected. The air whistles past his blade and Raihan narrowly avoids being slashed across the abdomen by twisting to the side. His blade catches Leon’s, twists, but fails to pull the weapon out of the other’s grasp. Dirt kicks up around their feet as they move, there is the sound of metal on metal and their harsh breaths. Even the onlookers are silent.

Raihan slashes upward, and Leon yanks his head back just in time—but not without sustaining a cut at the corner of his bottom lip. He knows better than to get distracted by the tongue swiping out to pick up the bead of blood forming from the small wound. He knows better than to get distracted by that glint in Leon’s eye, the way his gentle face has turned fierce, the way his long hair twirls about him as he moves.

But he still gets distracted, and Leon manages a shallow slice from his jaw to his cheekbone. Raihan staggers back, but manages to regain his balance quickly. Fueled by a rush of anger, he lunges forward, managing to cut the bridge of Leon’s nose, across one cheek. Shallow enough that the injuries only bleed somewhat.

Are they aiming to kill? Not even Raihan is sure. It’s just a warning, maybe, not to cross one another. And to show Leon never to underestimate Raihan, that Raihan _will_ catch up to him, _will_ surpass him.

“This is fun and all,” Leon suddenly says, catching Raihan off guard. “But it's going on far too long.” It’s enough to give Leon an opening to strike again—he misses cutting Raihan’s skin again just barely, but instead cuts through the bandanna around his head. The orange fabric falls to the ground. Then, before Raihan can react, his blade is being twisted from his grasp and flies somewhere a few feet away. Leon’s foot catches his ankle, tripping him, and he tumbles backward before collapsing onto the ground with a thud.

Raihan blinks a few times, somewhat dazed, staring up at the blue sky, trying to properly register what just happened.

Right, he lost.

Frustration forms a lump in his throat.

When a shadow casts over him, he props himself up onto his elbows only for the end of a blade to touch beneath his chin, forcing him to meet those golden eyes again. The tip digs into the vulnerable skin of his throat, drawing a bit of blood. Raihan scowls up at Leon, but Leon just tilts his head with a smile.

“Good fight,” Leon murmurs, and Raihan wishes he didn’t sound so genuine when he said it. “But what were you expecting, really?”

Raihan doesn’t respond. When the blade is drawn back and sheathed, he sits up fully, his hand coming up to touch the wound on his face. He feels… humiliated, to put it lightly. Bested by this man right in front of his crew, but Leon is right: what _was_ he expecting? Did he really think it’d be so easy, to defeat the Champion of the Seas? He really _did_ underestimate him.

Then a gloved hand is offered to him. Raihan stares at it, then up to Leon’s face. He grits his teeth, his blood boiling, then silently rejects the assistance by pushing himself up to his feet on his own. He says nothing more to Leon, just finds his blade, the ruined bandanna, and slinks off with his crewmen in tow, but as he leaves he can still feel that stare burning into his back.

When he returns to the ship, Nessa is immediately upon him.

“Are you okay? What happened to—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he bites out. “Leave me be.”

Time to do what he always does when he feels like shit: isolate himself.

He bathes the sweat and dirt from his body, rinses the taste of blood from his mouth, cleans his wounds, and until night he sits at his desk to occupy himself with his sketches. And he can’t stop himself from drawing _him_ —Leon, with that determined look in his eye, with his hair fanning over his face as he fights. Raihan stares down at the parchment, growls in frustration, then balls it up and tosses it aside.

—

In the dead of night, when the only noise is the sea and distant voices from the island, Raihan awakens to the sound of his cabin door opening.

At first he thinks it may be Nessa, but she usually says something when she walks in. This person does not. They remain silent save for light footsteps. The door closes behind them, and Raihan finally snaps his eyes open. One hand slowly reaches under his pillow to find the dagger he keeps there, curling his fingers around the hilt.

Shooting upright, he sees the light of the moon cutting across the cabin, cutting across the face of the intruder. Golden eyes gleaming in that ivory light, and Raihan thinks he must be dreaming, or hallucinating. With his free hand he quickly reaches over to light the oil lantern at his bedside, casting the room in an orange glow.

It isn’t a hallucination. Leon stands there in his cabin without a single sign of fear. In fact, he looks rather relaxed. He’s no longer wear his coat, nor his hat, instead wearing something lighter, more casual.

“I’m glad to see you aren’t stewing in your own filth,” Leon says in lieu of a proper greeting.

Raihan is quick to show his dagger, but Leon gives him a brief glimpse of his blade in warning.

“I’m not here to fight,” Leon says. The sword is sheathed again, remaining at his hip. “Call it curiosity.”

Leon looks around the cabin. “Your ship is woefully unguarded, you know.”

Raihan isn’t sure what to say to that. So he slowly begins to climb out of bed, prepared to strike even though he knows well enough now that Leon could bring him down with ease. The dagger is left behind. He looks over the man again, heat prickling under his skin when he takes in how his brown skin seems to glow in the lantern light, that partially opened blouse that leaves little to the imagination, the way those dark trousers fit snugly around strong thighs, snugly around—

He has to look away. He hears Leon laugh a little.

“I can’t imagine how it must feel—losing, I mean,” Leon says. Each word is like a knife in Raihan’s skin. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never lost. But you… you lasted longer than any other man I’ve fought.”

Then Raihan moves again, walking closer, closer, closer. Leon doesn’t move, just cranes his neck up to look at him. Raihan swears he smells roses, it’s almost dizzying. Now that he stands close, he can see Leon’s tended to his own minor injuries, blood wiped away, but he notes that cut at the corner of his lip still looks a bit red. _It’ll scar,_ he thinks, with a brief rush of pride. A constant reminder for Leon, then, of their fight.

“It seems like you want to make an enemy out of me,” Leon remarks. “Do you think that’s wise?” And then he laughs again, the sound light. “Not many of my enemies last very long as it is.”

Raihan steps closer again and begins walking Leon backwards, until Raihan his caging him in with his elbows braced against the wall. Like this, he can really notice their difference in size. Raihan is already a large man, but Leon only barely reaches his shoulder. There is a look in Leon’s eye that sends a rush of heat down Raihan’s spine, a pulse between his legs. “Get off of my ship,” he growls. Leon blinks, his brows raising.

“I can’t like this,” he says, reaching up to lightly touch Raihan’s elbows. The touch sets his nerves alight, but Raihan can’t bring himself to move. “Do you really want me to leave, Raihan?” And, oh, the way Leon says his name almost makes Raihan shudder. “Be honest.”

He can’t take it anymore.

Hunching over the other, he crushes their mouths together. It isn’t tender—it’s teeth and tongue, he hears Leon breathe in sharply through his nose, hears him make a little sound in the back of his throat that Raihan wants to hear more of, that makes Raihan wonder what other sounds he can make.

Until he comes to his senses and pulls his head back, staring down at Leon with wide eyes. Leon’s cheeks are dusted red, he’s panting, and even if Raihan hates him he can’t help but feel the need to apologize, “I’m sor—”

“No,” Leon breathes. “Keep going.”

Raihan stares at him, letting the words process.

Finally, he gives in. He kisses Leon again hungrily, open-mouthed, running his tongue along Leon’s palate and making the other moan. He tastes a bit sweet, like he's just gotten finished eating a fruit. Leon’s hands come up to hold Raihan’s face, but Raihan grabs his wrists and pins them against the wall. The heat in his gut grows, his trousers are getting uncomfortably tight, his skin burns with a mix of anger, lust, passion.

When they part again for a few moments, Leon looks up at him and says, “You kiss like you have something to prove.”

“Shut up,” Raihan says, pushing his knee between Leon’s legs and grinding upward. Leon gasps, his head knocking back against the wall. Wet kisses are planted down Leon’s throat, then Raihan sinks his teeth in. Not enough to break the skin, but enough that he can leave a mark with a few more moments of biting and sucking, sharp canines grazing the skin.

Leon’s wrists are released from his grasp so Raihan can grab his hips, one hand quickly undoing the clasp on his belt holding the sword at his hip, causing the blade to fall to the floor. With his hands now free, Leon runs them over Raihan’s bare chest, feels his rapid heartbeat beneath his palm.

“Raihan,” he breathes. “Will fucking me make you feel better about losing?”

“That isn’t what this is about,” Raihan growls out, but he can’t even fully convince himself of that. Maybe if he can make Leon a needy puddle under his touch he might feel a bit better, maybe if he can have Leon whimper his name he can forget about some of his anger. It would be a pretty sight, having Leon on his knees.

“Isn’t it?” Leon says, and as if he read Raihan’s mind he’s swatting his hands from his hips and dropping down to his knees in front of him and—fuck, it _is_ a pretty sight. Leon has no right being so damn beautiful, especially looking up at him now as he pops open the button of his trousers slowly, slips his hand in to pull his hard, heavy cock out of the confines of his smallclothes. Raihan hisses at the sensation.

The way Leon moves his hand over it, the way he laps at the tip and along the underside makes Raihan think that this isn’t his first time doing something like this. Honestly, he’s not sure how to feel about that, but it’s not like he can really think too much about it because his mind nearly goes blank when Leon takes him into his mouth.

Fingers bury into purple hair, gripping tight as Leon sucks him off. If this is irritating the cut on his lip, he doesn’t show it. His mouth is hot, his lips are soft, his tongue is so damn sinful. How can he be so skilled with his mouth? Raihan doesn’t want to think about the other men he must have done this for. Still, Raihan is far from a virgin himself.

When it feels like too much, when Raihan is sure he’s going to come if this goes on too much longer, he yanks Leon’s head back and Leon gasps as he’s pulled off. His lips are a little swollen, there’s spit running down his chin, and his eyes are glassy.

“Stand up,” Raihan pants. Leon does, and immediately Raihan is scooping him up and moving, practically throwing him onto the bed. The other laughs again as he kicks his boots off, then Raihan is on top of him. He kisses him again and as he does, he undoes the last few buttons of Leon’s blouse and runs his palm up his toned abdomen, feeling the occasional scar. When his hand reaches Leon’s chest Raihan pauses, then really _realizes_. Not like he didn’t _notice_ when he first saw Leon in this shirt, but it didn’t really register fully then.

It doesn’t change much besides how Raihan is going to go about this.

Both of his hands come up, pushing the blouse off of Leon’s shoulders, and then they take hold of his breasts. He fondles the soft flesh, rolls the nipples in his fingers, feels Leon arch under him and take hold of his shoulders. Ah, are they that sensitive? Raihan pinches one nipple just to see Leon's reaction, pleased when it makes him squirm.

Some minutes later, after Raihan’s marked along Leon’s neck, his collarbone, has rid them both of the rest of their clothing, he’s biting and licking at one nipple while he works two fingers in and out of Leon’s cunt. His thumb rubs against his throbbing clit, making Leon jolt and gasp. A hand is holding tight on Raihan’s locs, sending sparks of pleasure-pain with each little tug. Leon’s hips jerk, trying to keep up with the pace of Raihan’s fingers.

God, Raihan wants to be inside of him already. He wants to fuck him, make him moan his name, wants to… claim him. Right, claim him.

He pulls his fingers out and sits back on his ankles. Leon pants, staring up at him, then grins. His legs fall open a little further, inviting, giving Raihan a view of his aching wet heat. Raihan groans quietly, stroking himself a few times, then he pulls one of Leon’s legs up and lines himself up.

When he presses in, they both moan. Leon is hot, and tight, bearing down on Raihan as he sinks in further, further, further. Leon mumbles something that sounds a little like ‘big’, but Raihan can’t be too sure. Either way, it stokes the fire in his belly, and the second he feels himself all the way in he begins to move. There is nothing tender, nothing gentle about it. He fucks Leon fast and hard, gives him biting kisses, groans into his mouth.

There is no other sound besides the waves outside, the creaking of the bed under them, their low moans and heavy breaths. They fuck almost desperately, like they’re both trying to stake a claim—Leon claws at his back, bites at his shoulder, his legs trembling around Raihan’s waist while Raihan grips him so hard he might leave bruises. Raihan can feel Leon tightening around him, can feel him jolting.

And suddenly Leon has the gall to drop his head back, to look up at Raihan right in his eyes, to move one of his hands from his back and lift it up to his face. First, he drags his thumb over the scar on his eyebrow, then he drops it to press down on the moue of his bottom lip, exposing the gold canine.

“How did you get this?” He asks. Too personal. Way too personal. Something Raihan hardly remembers because the blow that cost him that tooth knocked him out cold. He gives a sharp thrust that has Leon letting out a startled moan.

“That isn’t any of your business,” Raihan says, grabbing Leon’s wrist and pinning it down on to the bed. “Didn’t I tell you to mind your own?”

For the sake of avoiding even more nosy questions, Raihan flips Leon over onto his belly and wastes no time pushing back into him and pounding into him as Leon grabs at the pillow, pressing his face into it, panting out Raihan’s name with each thrust. Raihan can feel his orgasm rapidly approaching, but he thinks to reach around and rub quick circles against Leon’s clit to make sure he reaches his peak in time, too.

Leon comes first, letting out a guttural sound into the pillow as he clenches and jolts around Raihan. It’s enough to push Raihan over the edge, too, and after a few sloppy thrusts he’s coming inside. Maybe not ideal, but he can’t think too clearly right now. Besides, Leon isn’t complaining—he even moans again as he’s filled up.

Raihan breathes in, then pulls out. Leon slumps down onto the bed, shivering, his face still in the pillow. He drops down next to Leon and takes a minute to catch his breath, to slow his heartbeat, but it all hits him then.

They just had sex. He and Leon just had sex. Leon snuck onto his ship, into his cabin, likely with this as his goal. Raihan rubs his hand over his face, hissing through his teeth. No, this can’t happen again. This won’t happen again. It was a momentary lapse of judgment. When he turns his head to look at Leon, he finds Leon looking at him already.

Anger and… something else, something complicated, boils up in him.

“I hate you,” Raihan says.

Leon just smiles at him, has the nerve to lean over and kiss the tip of his nose, then rolls out of bed. Raihan watches him as he moves around the cabin, his movements a little stiff, pulls his clothes back on, and picks up his blade. Watches him as he opens the cabin door, looks back over his shoulder at Raihan with something strange in his eyes, then turns and leaves. The cabin door thuds shut behind him.

Raihan stares at the door. Even long after Leon is gone, the scent of roses still lingers. Then he brings his hands up to his face and groans in frustration.

Out of all the bad decisions he’s made, that had to have been one of the worst.

No one can find out about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to hell!!!
> 
> no but fr thank you all for the support here and on twitter, it means a lot! ;_;
> 
> i want you all to look at [this fanart](https://twitter.com/tinypalettes/status/1232821571099799554) for the fic by joseph again since it's relevant to this chapter!!!!!!
> 
> [here's more fanart](https://twitter.com/tinypalettes/status/1235359908180226049) of it also by joseph of leon, mild nsfw warning for Titties. im crying everyone please follow joseph
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?_ Macbeth had said. _No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my life's become this grand game of deception, my mind's ignored all my heart's [good intentions](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyLMTgR_fuc).
> 
> ( this chapter contains explicit sexual content. )

**_August, 1734_ **

Another nightmare.

This time when Leon wakes up he doesn't cry. He just feels cold, numb, exhausted. His head hurts, he just wants to sleep without being haunted. Staring up at the ceiling of his cabin in silence, his brows furrow tightly, then he looks off to the side where his coat hangs over the chair of his desk. Cora remains fast asleep on the floor, curled up comfortably, her breathing soft.

Managing to momentarily get out of the warmth of his bed, Leon grabs the coat and brings it back. He doesn't properly put it on, just pulls it over his head and lets the weight of it comfort him as he curls back up in bed. The air outside is warm, even with the chill brought on by the ocean, but Leon still feels so cold. So… painfully lonely. He stares at the cabin door in the dark, listens to the ocean outside, breathes in the scent of the flowers placed around his room to overpower the scent of murk.

As valiantly as he tries, he can never get the memory of his nightmares to fade. Anything good always slips away when he wakes up, but those stick with him for days. Weeks. This time it was about his little brother. His little brother getting hurt, getting killed, his body lying bloody and broken and lifeless. Leaving Leon without one of the only things keeping him properly tethered to the world. Taking away the one thing that matters to Leon more than anything else.

The thought makes him sick.

He finally brings himself to move again, slipping out of bed with his coat still hanging over his shoulders. Leon lights his lantern, squinting in the light, then quietly walks across his cabin and up the steps to the door. Out on the deck, everything is painted a midnight blue. The stars are reflected in the gentle waves, the sky is clear. The moon is nearly a sliver in the sky, not offering much light, so he relies on the candle in front of his face as he walks quickly across the boat, making his way below deck.

The one place he can never get lost is his ship, even with its size and its many sections. Leon finds his way to the officers’ quarters easily. Hop, while not an officer himself, still has the luxury of being his little brother—meaning he has his own small, separate cabin away from the rest of the crew.

All Leon wants to do is see him, to reassure himself that he’s all right, that he’s safe.

He slips into Hop’s cabin. The boy is asleep in a hammock while the bed remains untouched; he said to Leon once that the hammock is easier on his stomach at night. Leon shuts the door quietly behind him and walks in further, setting the lantern down on a chair. It casts the room in a faint glow, enough that Leon can properly look at his sleeping brother.

Safe. Unharmed. Tucked in one arm is a lamb doll worn with age. Something Hop has had since he was only an infant. So important to him that after _that day_ Leon snuck back into their home to grab it from their shared bedroom.

It was hard to ignore the bloodstains on the floor, even with the bodies gone.

Leon breathes out a sigh of relief. Reaching out, he lightly touches his brother’s shoulder. The boy grumbles, stirs, then cracks one eye open to look up at Leon.

“Lee?” He mumbles sleepily. “What’s… wrong?” One of his hands comes up to rub his eyes. Leon smiles weakly.

“Nothing, don’t worry. I’m just going to join you for tonight. Is that fine?”

Hop squints up at him, then just nods slowly. As Leon turns off the lantern Hop manages to drag himself out of the hammock so Leon can climb in, one leg hanging over the side, and then the boy clambers back in and nestles close while Leon pulls his coat over them both. His head rests on Leon’s shoulder while Leon combs his fingers through his hair; he’ll want it cut soon, he notes with a small smile. It’s getting long, but Hop doesn’t like when it gets too long. That’s one of the many ways they differ.

Yet at the same time, they’re both stubborn as a mule, ambitious, energetic, and proud. He loves Hop more than the boy can even comprehend, more than he’ll ever realize. Leon peers down at his little brother in the dim light the moon has to offer through the window, his eyes soft and smile softer.

It’s not the first time they’ve done this. Since they were younger they often shared a bed, it’s nothing new. But it has been a long time since Leon felt so vulnerable that he sought Hop out for comfort—he doesn’t want Hop to see him like this.

For now, it’s okay.

“I love you, little brother,” he says quietly.

Hop opens his eyes again, then tilts his head up to look at Leon a little better. The boy smiles. “I love you, too, Lee.”

When Hop turns his head back down and closes his eyes again, Leon begins to hum a [ soft melody ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vfdwRBarBWM) that their mother always sang to them when they were children. His brother drifts off to that melody while Leon lies awake for a while longer, rocking the hammock slowing with his foot on the floor, keeping up with the rhythm of the waves.

Finally, he drifts off into a dreamless sleep. The first in a long time.

—

When he wakes up, he's alone. The thin blanket and his coat have been tucked up to his chin, and that lamb doll sits on his chest. Leon blinks blearily, looking up at the ceiling. Above, he can hear his crew moving about, talking to one another.

Leon sits himself up slowly, setting the lamb aside, swinging his other leg over the side of the hammock. Did he sleep too late? Hop should have woken him up. Groggily, he drags himself out of the hammock, pulling the blanket off of him as he goes. He slips his arms through the sleeves of his coat. It's always somewhat embarrassing to face his crew like this, but they've seen him in worse condition.

He picks up the unlit lantern off of the nearby chair then makes his way out of the cabin. The sun is too bright for his tired eyes, making him scrunch his eyes shut momentarily. A few of his crewmen call out greetings to him, which he returns with a little smile and wave.

Off at the other end of the ship he spots Hop talking low with Sonia. He pauses to watch them for a moment, his smile growing fonder, and then he heads back to his own cabin to change from his night clothes and brush the tangles from his hair.

One of the perks of them stealing a royal ship is their access to baths and basins—but they always need to make their cleaning quick to conserve their freshwater supply. Leon washes his face in the basin, then drags a brush through his thick hair, wincing and grumbling as he yanks at the tangles.

In the vanity he stares at himself, notes the faint circles under his eyes, then reaches up to touch the small scar at the corner of his bottom lip. The pad of his index finger brushes the raised skin. A flash of blue eyes enters his mind, intense, fierce, looking at him with anger, hate, and _something else_ —

Leon shivers.

It's something he's thought about often, usually on the lonelier nights with his face in his pillow and hand between his thighs, but he tries to throw the memory aside most times. Even if he _is_ incredibly curious. Even if he wouldn't mind doing that again, if given the chance. No one knows what happened that night when he snuck onto the Wyrmwind, with the goal of assessing a man intent on being his enemy, which ended with Leon in his bed.

Which, well, was also on his list of goals. Raihan is very attractive, after all.

He has, admittedly, asked some of his crewmen if they knew anything about Raihan Kinsley. Mostly, they know that he is respected by many—something Leon already knew from the brief mentions of him he had heard a few times prior, that he is known to be friendly and laid back with a shining smile. _A smile I never got to see,_ Leon had thought. But they also said he is troubled, maybe a little lost in life, but young enough that he can work it out in time.

_Enough thinking about him._

A few minutes later he steps out of the cabin, bringing along the floral scent of the flowers placed in his cabin and perfume he had taken in a recent raid. Leon keeps his jacket open, his shirt just barely buttoned, and walks across the ship where Hop and Sonia still stand.

"Morning, Lee!" Hop says when Leon approaches. "How did you sleep?"

"Better," Leon replies while reaching over to ruffle his brother's hair. "You should have woken me up."

"You looked too peaceful. And I know you don't usually sleep all that well."

His lips twitch. He shares a brief glance with Sonia, then looks back at Hop.

"That's thoughtful of you, but you don't have to worry," he reassures. Hop just furrows his brow, peering up at him incredulously. There is definitely something his brother wants to say, but evidently he thinks better of it. "What were you two talking about, anyway?"

"Giving Hop reading lessons," Sonia says. "It's about time he properly learns."

"Sonia is a good teacher," Leon says. "I've improved quite a lot because of her."

Hop grins at them. "Maybe Lee and I can have lessons together," he suggests.

Sonia snorts. "So long as you two don't distract each other the whole time, maybe. We'll discuss it more later." She pats Leon on the shoulder once, gives him a grin, then heads off. Leon turns all of his attention back to Hop, who has begun to make his way towards the wheel. He follows after him, taking his place right next to him.

"About four days from Postwick," Hop says. Postwick: a small town on the southern coast of England with a high population of men and women that came from Scotland. One of the few that actually welcomes pirates rather than shuns them, as it's one of the poorer towns that their King refuses to assist. So _pirates_ do what the crown should, offering their own aid whenever they stop there. "How long will we be there?"

"A day or two," Leon replies. He turns his head, looks out across the expanse of ocean that stretches on for miles, not a single sign of land in sight. "It's enough time to help them, and get what we need."

Hop is quiet for a few moments, his hands resting on the wheel, his expression thoughtful. "You know…" He finally says, looking up at Leon. "No matter what anyone says about you, you're a really good person, Lee."

Ah, and how is he meant to respond to that? Leon blinks down at his brother, lips parted, momentarily speechless. A good person? That isn't what Leon would ever think to describe himself as. Yes, he loves to help people, looks out for his crew and for anyone in need, won't hesitate to put his life on the line for those he cares about.

But at the same time, he's brutal, harsh, and calculating. One doesn't gain the reputation he does by simply being kind. There is so much blood on his hands he sometimes feels like he can still smell it, feel it (for a moment he recalls Macbeth and his bloody hands), there are so many sins on his back that will follow him to the grave and beyond.

 _Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?_ Macbeth had said. _No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red._

Yet if Hop wants to believe his older brother to be a good person, Leon won't say a single word against it.

In time he will learn, however. Leon will have to brace himself for the disappointment the boy will feel. To look up to your brother who saved you, protected you, raised you—you'd want nothing more than to see every bit of good in them as you could while ignoring the rest.

"Thank you, Hop," he finally says after snapping himself out of his thoughts. "But flattering me won't make me go any gentler on you."

He ruffles his hair again. When they get to Postwick Leon figures he'll cut it himself. With one more smile, he turns and walks off. They need help fixing some damage below deck and he knows he should help.

Leon works down there with a few of his crewmen for what feels like hours, until his hands are red, until they're covered in gunpowder from repairing a faulty cannon. He wipes his hands off on a rag and uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow—with a bit of gunpowder smudged over his face appearing on the white fabric.

"Good job, men," he says with a grin. "I say go have a drink, you—"

He's cut off by sudden commotion up above. Shouting, boots thudding against the deck. Cora and Yampy barking in alarm. Leon snaps his head up, and immediately he's picking up his hat and jacket and rushing away. His heart beats wildly as he appears on the deck to see the crew moving into familiar position.

On the horizon he sees it: a ship whose sails bear the Royal Arms. Leon puts his hat on and slips his arms through his coat sleeves. At his hip, he feels the grip of his sword. At his other, he finds his pistol.

He doesn't need to say anything—a few more crewmen go below deck to assist in manning the cannons, others are adjusting the sails, and those left are getting their weapons ready. If the enemy ship is lucky they will escape with minimal damage once their cargo is successfully looted. Leon stands stock-still, and when the ship gets closer, closer, he makes one gesture of his hand for the Jolly Roger to be raised.

One cannon fires, missing on purpose. A warning. Leon waits a few moments, but has the Champion Time steering out of firing distance just in case— ah, there it is. A shot in return. The cannon barely misses.

They won't be surrendering without a fight, then.

The Jolly Roger is lowered and replaced by a flag of blood red.

"Attack the soldiers," he says, his voice loud and strong over the waves. "Leave anyone else unharmed, unless they strike first."

Another cannon fired at the royal ship, this one breaking through the quarterdeck. As the crew reels from the damage, it gives the Champion Time enough time to move in closer. Then with barely any space left between the ships, the planks are lowered and his crew rushes on with him at the lead.

It’s a flurry of red, with the sound of metal hitting metal and gunshots and shouting that sound distant in his ears. Leon only attacks clear targets and anyone who happens to attack him—for the most part, the _innocents_ stay out of the way, scrambling for cover while the soldiers charge them. His own voice sounds detached from him, he’s calling out commands that come so naturally to him but hardly register to his ears.

A man coughs up blood as Leon draws his blade from his chest, then kicks him back with a boot to the gut. Leon doesn’t even wait for the dying man to hit the ground, he’s already moving, eyes scanning over the deck, picking out his crew among the soldiers and servants.

Before he can take another step he hears it, that familiar, young voice high among the others. It makes him freeze, makes his eyes widen.

_Hop._

Hop isn’t supposed to be out here, Leon had strictly told him he wasn’t old enough to take part in the battles, he needs to stay on the ship and only fight if anyone gets on and tries to fight him first. Leon spins around towards the source of the voice, pushing past the men around him, narrowly avoiding blows.

He sees him, he sees his brother knocked down with his nose gushing blood, with his sword knocked a few feet away. A man looms over him with his own blade at the ready, prepared to strike, _prepared to kill Leon’s little brother—_

Within moments he’s between Hop and the man who, judging by his uniform, is of high rank. Leon doesn’t have time to focus on that, he barely registers that he receives the blow meant for Hop; however, the surprise from Leon barging in seems to throw off the man’s aim. The blade tears through his shirt and slashes his ribs rather than plunging into his gut. The adrenaline numbs the pain, the _anger_ numbs the pain.

He pulls his pistol out, presses the barrel to the man’s forehead, and snarls, “Don’t touch my brother.”

Then he fires. Blood and brain matter spray out, mixed with gunpowder, and the man stumbles back from the impact before collapsing lifeless on the deck. Leon, breathing hard, turns to look down at his brother who stares back up at him with wide eyes. _Full of fear._ He leans over and grabs Hop by the arm, pulling him up to his feet. They just look at each other once more, then Leon looks back to the commotion.

He quickly reloads his pistol, then raises it up and fires it into the air. The sound makes everyone freeze, including his crew.

“Surrender or we’ll sink the ship,” he says, voice firm. “Or there will be more families waiting for men and women that will never come home.”

There is a long, drawn out silence. No one moves. Frustrated, he continues, “You know who we are. Who I am. And you know my threats aren’t empty. _Surrender._ ”

Finally, the remaining members of the enemy crew drop their weapons. Leon’s crew begins to line them up along with the servants, and a few men remain to keep watch on them while others begin to go below deck to begin their raid for alcohol, tobacco, weaponry, and food. Enough is left behind for the remaining crew to get themselves home, Leon isn’t so cruel as to leave the innocent ones with nothing.

“Lee,” Hop says from beside him, his voice hushed. “You’re bleeding.”

Leon blinks. That’s when that numbness begins to fade, that’s when the pain registers, that’s when he feels the hot blood on his skin, soaking the wet fabric of his shirt. He hisses through his teeth, his hand flying up to the wound on his right side. Blood drips between his fingers and he winces.

“Leon!” Sonia runs up to them, grabbing him by the arm. “You’re hurt—both of you.”

“Not as bad as he is,” Hop says quietly, wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve. “Lee, come on.”

Feeling a little dizzy, Leon nods slowly. Both Hop and Sonia try to help him back to their ship, but he shrugs them off, insisting on walking himself. He manages to make it, he’s had worse pain, but he knows he needs to limit his movement unless he wants to lose more blood.

It’s only when the cargo is finished being loaded onto the Champion Time, that the crew is all accounted for, that Leon quietly gives the order for them to depart before he’s taken below deck to be seen by the doctor.

He’s forced to shed his jacket and his ruined shirt is pulled off. Leon stares upward, unfocused, as they halt the bleeding of the wound and begin to clean it. There isn’t too much they can do on the ship, they can only fight off infection so much with what they have, so they have to hope it doesn’t get worse before they reach Postwick. Leon clenches his teeth as the wound is sutured, closes his eyes as they apply a bandage over it.

At some point, he blacks out.

When he comes to, he’s in his cabin, the setting sun is casting a glow in through his window, and he feels nauseated. Leon sits up slowly, growling through his teeth at the pain emanating from the wound at his side. Whoever brought him here had the decency to put a new shirt on him, at least, and his hat and coat hang off the back of the chair at his desk.

And he’s alone.

But he’s alive.

Leon rubs his palms into his eyes, then slowly slips out of bed. He should stay, he should sleep, but there is also something else he needs to do.

After pulling his boots on he leaves his cabin. A few of his crewmen glance at him, then share relieved looks with one another. Leon is silent as he walks across the deck to where he sees a familiar head of purple hair standing at the wheel. Worry and anger sit heavy in his gut.

“Hop,” he says sharply, making the boy jump in surprise and turn around. “Come with me.”

“Lee—”

“Now.”

He turns around and begins his walk back to the cabin and Hop quickly follows after him with his head down, shoulders sagging. Leon doesn’t enjoy scolding his brother, but after what happened today what is he meant to do? Barely thirteen, thinking he can fight an adult’s battle.

(But isn’t that what he was doing at thirteen?)

The second the cabin door shuts behind Hop Leon whips around, hands clenched in tight fists at his sides.

“What do you think you were doing earlier?” He says, his voice rough from anger and pain. “After what I’ve told you? You completely disobeyed your captain. What’s gotten into you?”

Hop won’t look at him in the eye. “I just wanted to help. I hate standing and doing nothing.”

“You’re just a boy, Hop, you can’t be fighting battles like that!”

“But you were,” Hop shoots back, finally looking at Leon. “You were! That’s how we got here in the first place!”

“Because if I didn’t, we’d both still be on the streets eating rubbish, or we’d be dead!”

“I just want to be strong like you, Lee,” Hop says, his voice suddenly weak again. It feels like a stab to Leon’s heart, it hurts more than the gash on his ribs does. He moves closer, grabbing Hop by the shoulders.

“You are strong, Hop, so strong, but—” His hands are shaking. There is a stinging sensation behind his eyes. “Today, I thought I was going to lose you. I thought I was going to lose my little brother.”

Hop just stares at him, his eyes wet.

“Please, Hop. For your sake and mine,” Leon hears the quiver in his voice but for once doesn’t try to fight it. “Don’t do something like that again. Not until you’re truly ready. Please, I…”

He yanks Hop into a tight embrace, burying his face into his shoulder. The tears spill over and his shoulders shake with his silent sobs. “Can’t lose you, too. I can’t.”

Hop is silent, but he returns the embrace, turning his face into Leon’s neck and Leon swears he feels the boy crying, feels his hot tears burning his skin. They remain like that for a long time, just standing there holding each other, like they’re worried that if they let go the other will fade away. Leon cries until he exhausts himself, until he’s sagging uselessly against his little brother who grunts under his weight.

_So much for staying strong for him._

—

Postwick is a quiet town. On one side is the ocean, on the other is farmland. They arrive at midday, nearly four days after their battle, and Leon is immediately taken to the doctor in town who inspects his injury thoroughly. It’s a little red, but not showing any real signs of infection. They clean it again and change out the bandages, then pushes a supply of medicine to take into his arms which he hands over to Hop to carry back to the ship.

He steps out of the clinic, stretches his arms over his head, wincing when the motion irritates his injury. Leon grumbles, buttoning up his shirt a bit more to hide the bandages. Breathing in deep, he turns his face up to the sun and lets its warmth wash over him. Even though it’s nearly autumn it’s still pleasantly warm outside, so he’ll enjoy it before the chill comes which will quickly turn into a bitter winter.

Leon adjusts his coat where it hangs over his shoulder. He thinks, tonight, he’ll stay in an inn rather than his cabin on the ship. For just a little bit he needs a night away from it, a night away from that smell of flowers that tries to cover up the scent of murk and sea. A night away from the place he always wakes up in after his nightmares.

When he looks in the direction of the docks he sees the Champion Time still there, a few men milling about on it. And he also sees another ship, one that wasn’t there when they arrived. It’s large, almost as large as his own, with its wood painted dark. The sails bear the symbol of a drake, and it only takes him a moment for him to recognize it.

The same ship he snuck onto two months ago, the same ship where he slept with a man he still can’t help but think about every so often. Leon had watched it leave the next morning, still felt that dull ache between his legs as he did, but with a smirk on his lips.

What a coincidence that the Champion Time and the Wyrmwind would once again find themselves in the same place. It makes him wonder where Raihan is, if they’ll meet again, what will happen if they _do_ meet again.

Leon won’t actively search for him, but, well, if they do stumble across one another…

 _I hate you,_ Raihan’s words from that night echo in his mind. It was said through grit teeth, still a little breathless, but Leon could tell he meant it. And then he didn’t understand _why_ —did Raihan truly take loss that badly, or was there something else to it? Maybe if they see one another again he can ask, assuming Raihan will want to talk to him.

It’s a straight path from the clinic to the docks, so he has little worry of getting lost on the way there. On the way, he pauses at a florist, purchasing bundles of fresh flowers that he carries all the way back to the ship. In his cabin, he picks out the bunches of wilting flowers set up in the vases and replaces them with the fresh ones.

“I’m staying at the inn,” he says to Sonia before he leaves again, his nightclothes, comb, and roll of bandages tucked under one arm. She gives him a curious look, but seems to understand not to press for answers.

It does take a good bit of wandering, lost, until he eventually finds it. As he steps inside there is a moment of silence as the patrons of the tavern turn their eyes to him, realizing just who he is, before they go back to their drinking and conversations.

“Just one room for tonight,” he says to the innkeeper, passing her a gold coin—more than he should pay, but he’s generous and he knows the people of Postwick need it.

She passes him a key with a smile. “Enjoy your stay, Captain.”

Leon returns the smile. He hopes it doesn’t look too tired.

He makes his way up the stairs, away from the noise of the tavern. Leon is only in his room for a moment to set his nightclothes on the narrow bed, folding his coat up and setting it beside them. Even up here he can still hear the distant sound of the tavern below, but he can also hear the ocean outside, the cry of seagulls. The scent of the sea isn’t as overwhelming here, however, and he has more light in this small room than he does in his cabin.

Then he makes his way out of the room, locking the door behind him, and with a few coins in his pocket he returns downstairs to the tavern. For the most part, he sits away from others, not much for conversation tonight. Just one drink, then he’ll retire to his room for tonight. Leon takes a small swig from his mug, staring down at the wooden counter. Lost in his own thoughts as usual, still thinking back to the other day when he thought his brother would die, feeling the sting of the wound on his side.

He wonders occasionally if they really should have chosen this path of life. Maybe, if they found the right person to teach them, they could have been seamsters like the rest of their family. Or maybe if his father hadn’t passed from illness when he was only six and Hop was barely a few months old, he could have protected their family from the soldiers.

Maybe…

A loud laugh from the opposite end of the tavern snaps him out of his thoughts. Leon turns his head enough to face the source, lips pressed into a tight line, and…

It’s Raihan.

Sitting at a table with a few other men and women, surprisingly lacking a drink of his own, playing a game of cards. There is no anger on his face now, no frightening burning intensity in his eyes. Instead his expression is relaxed, his eyes are bright, and he has such a big grin on his face it looks like it might split his head in two.

 _I wonder if I could make him smile like that,_ Leon thinks, but figures that’s a sort of odd thing to think about a man he’s only met once before.

Instead of looking away, he quietly watches. At his side is a pretty woman with dark skin and dark hair woven into braids, her own eyes a bright blue like Raihan’s. She’s laughing, too, slapping cards down with a wide grin. Leon tilts his head curiously, turning his eyes back to Raihan and really _looking_ at him. Those bright, downturned eyes, that strong jaw and nose, full lips, thick eyebrows; anyone would be vying for his attention.

He’s handsome, Leon thought so even two months ago when he first saw him, then when the tip of his sword was pressed against Raihan’s throat, when Raihan was looking up at him with gritted teeth and furrowed brows, blood dripping down his cheek. And when he was on top of Leon, buried deep inside of him, lips parted as he let out hard, heavy breaths. Leon could tell that night he wasn’t Raihan’s first, and doubts he would be his last.

And as he’s finishing his drink off, Raihan turns his head just enough that he looks Leon’s way. Their eyes meet. A slight jolt of surprise runs down Leon’s spine, but he doesn’t look away. The look in Raihan’s eyes shifts then, he swears he sees fire in the depths of that blue, and he can see Raihan’s jaw tighten from here. Leon considers staying where he is, but he isn’t about to impede on Raihan’s good time.

So he looks away, passes the barkeeper a few pieces of copper, and leaves. After he returns to his room, he uses the small bath to wash away the sweat and dirt from the day, trying to keep his mind off of what just happened in the tavern below. He hisses as the warm water touches his wound, but gets over it fairly quickly so he can scrub himself clean.

Once he’s dried himself off, he carefully applies fresh bandages to the wound, then pulls his nightclothes on. By now, the sun has fully set outside; he has to light the lantern at the bedside. Leon carefully combs tangles out of his hair until he can run his fingers through the purple locks without any interference, and as he’s placing the brush down there is the sound of someone outside of his door.

A slow, steady knock on the thick wood.

Leon eyes where he placed his sword, keeping a mental note of its location as he walks over to the door. He unlocks it, then slowly pulls it open.

“Oh, it’s you,” Leon says, craning his head up to meet that intense blue gaze he’s been thinking about for weeks. Raihan stares down at him with a difficult expression which only becomes even more difficult when he seems to realize that he’s caught Leon in an admittedly very vulnerable position. “To what do I owe the pleasure, then?”

Raihan is silent for a few moments. Then he says, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Leon raises his brow. Already he can see where this conversation is headed, and he’d rather not have anyone eavesdropping. “Okay, then come in.” Reaching out, he grabs Raihan by the wrist and pulls him forward. Raihan stumbles a bit, catches himself, then takes a few steps forward himself. Leon shuts the door.

The other man turns to him, adjusting the large collar of his coat, working his jaw. Leon isn’t sure how he feels about having Raihan here so suddenly, facing him when he’s still not entirely fit for a fight if it should happen, but something tells him that Raihan isn’t here to pick a fight. Just to talk. Odd. If he hates him so much, then why talk to him? Why ask him anything?

“Well?” Leon presses. “Go on, then.”

“That night,” Raihan says slowly. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“You know what,” Raihan grumbles.

Leon smiles. “Why did I seek you out?”

“Yes.”

He steps in a little closer, watching the way Raihan subtly tenses. Leon wonders what would happen if he got closer, if he touched him—just his arm, or his shoulder. How would Raihan respond?

“I told you then: curiosity.” Leon folds his hands behind his back. “You impressed me, so I wanted to know more about you.”

Raihan grinds his teeth. “By sleeping with me?”

Leon can’t help but laugh. “If I recall correctly, _you_ kissed _me_.” Still, he can’t deny that when he snuck onto that ship, slipped into Raihan’s cabin, that the possibility of fucking him wasn’t off the table. It had all depended on how Raihan responded and _oh,_ did he _respond._ “You couldn’t resist me?”

“You’re insufferable,” Raihan snaps.

“I prefer ‘charming’.”

The look on Raihan’s face makes him laugh again. He takes one more step closer, then another. Leon wonders just how far he can push this, wonders what Raihan will do: stay, or flee? Raihan seems too proud to run away, but it could also be a blow to that pride if he does stay. Leon isn’t even entirely sure what he wants Raihan to do.

“Did you only come here to ask me that?” Leon finally says. One of his hands finally lands on Raihan’s elbow, making the man flinch. But he doesn’t pull away from Leon’s touch. “Or was there something else?”

“Nothing else,” Raihan replies, his voice a little rough. When he swipes his tongue out over his lips, Leon’s eyes track the movement. “I should go.”

But he doesn’t move. Neither of them do. The tension is palpable, Leon can feel his heartbeat quicken.

“Raihan,” Leon says softly. It seems to flip a switch, because Raihan is bowing over Leon now, his breath hot on his face. When they kiss this time, it’s much different than the last. It’s more careful now, testing the waters, their lips moving together slowly. Then Raihan slips his tongue out, pries open Leon’s lips with it and pushes it in. Leon lets out a little sigh into his mouth, wiggling a little when large hands grab his hips.

His hand falls from Raihan’s arm and he slowly begins unbuttoning his own shirt, exposing skin bit by bit. When it hangs open completely, Leon takes hold of Raihan’s wrists, guiding his hands from his hips up to his chest. He shivers when Raihan pushes his shirt from his shoulders, then grabs onto his breasts with a firm grip, running his thumbs over the nipples, making Leon give a shaky whimper.

A pause, then, when Raihan’s hand brushes over the bandages. He breaks away from the kiss to look down, brows knitting together. “What—?”

“Didn’t you tell me before to mind my own business?” Leon replies quickly, maybe a little snippy because he’s _not_ interested in a conversation about that injury. He leans in and bites at Raihan’s lip. “So don’t worry about it.”

Raihan squints at him, but doesn’t argue, just fitting their mouths together again. Rougher this time, hotter. Leon feels himself growing damp in his smallclothes, feels a sudden aching emptiness in between his thighs.

“You said you hated me,” Leon says, a little breathless, against Raihan’s lips.

“I do,” Raihan replies.

“But you’re still fucking me.” A squeak when Raihan pinches his nipple.

“That’s because,” Raihan presses an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, then more along his neck. “Only an idiot would turn you down.”

Leon snickers, then gasps as Raihan bites down on his neck. He runs his own hands over the exposed bit of Raihan’s chest, sliding them upward, then lightly tugging at his coat. Raihan pulls his hands from Leon’s chest so he can shrug the coat off, his shirt following soon after. One of Leon’s hands comes up to untie the headband, distantly noticing how it must have gotten sewn back together after Leon had ruined it before. It falls to the floor.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he says as he sucks a mark into Raihan’s collarbone. “All the time. It’s a little concerning.”

Raihan doesn’t respond. Leon kisses the mark.

“Do whatever you’d like to me,” Leon finally says, making Raihan let out a low groan.

It doesn’t take too long before Leon finds himself in bed, on his back, his trousers pulled down his legs with his smallclothes and thrown aside, his thighs pushed apart. Raihan has his head between his thighs, putting that mouth to good use as he kisses and licks at Leon’s aching heat. Leon whines, lifting his hips, his hands fisting into the blanket. One of his favorite things, honestly, but not many men seem to know how to do it right. _Raihan,_ however, knows exactly what he’s doing.

He hooks his arms around Leon’s thighs, holding them firmly apart. The tip of his tongue flicks over Leon’s hole, making him squirm, making him rock back against Raihan’s skilled mouth. A suck to his clit has him keening softly, and he doesn’t know how much more of this he can take before he comes and oh, how long has it been since he’s come just from someone’s mouth?

“Raihan,” he gasps. “I’m going to—”

Without warning, Raihan pulls his head back and Leon lets out a disappointed, needy little sound entirely unbefitting of someone of his caliber. But his confusion and disappointment are wiped away when Raihan rises up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, pulling his stiff cock out of its confines and giving it a few pumps. Leon eyes it, then looks up at his face.

Raihan uses his other hand to reach over and turn Leon onto his side—the uninjured side, Leon realizes, but he isn’t sure if that’s on purpose—before grabbing his leg and pulling it over his shoulder. A biting kiss is pressed to the inside of his knee, and then Raihan is pushing inside. The stretch comes with a slight burn that quickly melts away into pleasure, making Leon turn his face into the pillow as he moans.

“You don’t have to be careful with me,” he pants as Raihan gives an experimental roll of his hips, as he starts with a slow pace. “I’m not some fragile virgin.”

All that gets him is a low hum. Raihan grinds in slowly. Leon curses.

“I want you to break me,” he blurts out, glaring at Raihan from the corner of his eye. Raihan’s hips stutter. “Fuck my cunt sore. Now.”

And Raihan laughs, which might have made Leon laugh as well if he weren’t feeling so impatient. All he can really focus on is the throbbing cock inside of him, the pulses of pleasure it brings, how even without moving it already drives him crazy.

All his focus there, keeping his mind from chasing those nightmares, those bad memories, making him forget everything that transpired the past few days.

But after a few moments, Raihan finally obliges, instantly picking up a harsh pace. He fucks Leon ruthlessly, grips his leg tightly, groans as Leon squirms and moans under him, each sweet drag in and out of him making sparks explode behind his eyes. He begs softly for it harder, lets out a weak litany of _yes, yes, yes,_ grabbing at the bedsheets and screwing his eyes shut.

“Never imagined the feared Champion of the Seas could get like this,” Raihan says breathlessly above him. Leon opens his eyes as feels himself being turned completely onto his back then. The movement tugs at the sutures, making him wince. “All from my cock?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Leon manages, then reaches out to grab him by the shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

He doesn’t know for how long Raihan fucks him, he knows he’s fucked through at least one of his own orgasms, turning into a shaking, overstimulated, gasping mess, and he knows his body is aching all over once Raihan comes inside of him, forcing another orgasm out of him that’s accompanied by a weak cry. Raihan braces himself on his elbows above him, panting as he weakly pumps his hips until he knows he’s finished.

Then he pulls out, a bit of cum dribbling out of Leon when he does. Leon throws an arm over his eyes, breathing heavily, his body still trembling and twitching, his chest heaving. He feels and hears Raihan’s hot breath against his ear. Leon lowers his arm, blinking blearily, then turns his head. Raihan turns his as well, staring at him.

But before Leon can close the distance between their faces to kiss him, Raihan is pulling away. Leon watches quietly as Raihan tucks himself back into his trousers and buckles his belt, then drags himself out of the bed to pull on the rest of his discarded clothes.

As Raihan reaches for the doorknob, Leon calls out his name softly, making Raihan snap his head towards him.

“Good night,” is all Leon says with a shaky little grin. Raihan narrows his eyes but says nothing, then takes a swift leave.

Alone, Leon stares up at the ceiling.

Then he starts to laugh.

—

“You look pleased with yourself,” Sonia says the next morning as they’re preparing to depart. She’s looking at him closely, crinkling her nose when she spots the marks along his neck. “You must have had a good time, then.”

“I suppose so,” Leon says, his eyes trained on the other ship docked nearby. He sees Raihan on the deck, talking to the woman from the night before. Finally, he turns his eyes back to Sonia. “And you?”

Sonia hums, then smiles. “I met a woman.”

“Did you?” Leon grins.

“Who knows if I’ll see her again, though,” she sighs, twirling her hair around her finger. “But I shouldn’t worry about it. We’re departing now.”

Leon nods, watching her leave, then turns his eyes back to the Wyrmwind. As the Champion Time begins to leave, Raihan turns. And even from this distance their eyes meet.

He just smiles, gives a wave of his hand, and turns away.

There are other things to worry about, he can think about him later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha nooo king dont run away from your trauma youre so sexy aha
> 
> anyway uhh hope you guys enjoy this! i wanted to write the wholesome brother content so bad........ ;_;
> 
> i forgot to specify before and added it later, but chapters 1 & 2 take place in june 1734. so yeah, two months before this chapter.
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Those golden eyes…_
> 
> It couldn’t be, could it?
> 
> He sees those golden eyes now, framed by long, dark lashes, big and shining yet still sharp and determined.
> 
> Raihan groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drag my teeth across your chest to taste your [beating heart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZweDwbJ_Ic).
> 
> ( this chapter contains explicit sexual content. )

**January, 1735**

"Raihan." A hand on his shoulder, jostling him awake. Raihan blinks his eyes open, bleary, turning his head to look up at the figure beside his bed, shrouded in darkness. He recognizes it as Nessa immediately and wonders why the hell she's waking him up now—it's still nighttime! And he hasn't slept well since he met with that damn Leon Khanna again just a week prior for the, what, fifth time in the span of half a year? Sometimes he wonders if he's being followed, or if somehow he's subconsciously following him.

It always ends the same. They run into one another, few words are exchanged, and then they find themselves in bed with each other. Raihan thinks about it more than he should, having the infamous Champion of the Seas writhing and at the mercy of his hands, his mouth, his—

He's getting distracted. Right. Nessa is here, waking him up. Why?

"What?" Raihan finally grumbles as he slowly sits up. Through the darkness and the bleariness in his eyes, he's having some difficulty seeing. However, Nessa's eyes cast a faint glow. No matter how many times he sees it, it still tends to creep him out a bit.

"There's… a problem. Come outside. Bring your pistol," she says, then swiftly turns and leaves. Raihan grunts softly, considers going back to sleep, but he knows if Nessa is concerned then he should probably be concerned, too. Especially if she wants him to bring a weapon. Snapping himself out of his sleepy daze, he pushes himself out of bed, lights the lantern on his desk so he can see, and quickly pulls a shirt on, buttoning it loosely before tugging his jacket on as well. It's the middle of winter, terribly cold, especially during the nights. He can still feel the chill in his cabin.

After slipping into his boots he finally leaves the cabin, stepping out onto the deck with a lantern in hand and pistol at his hip. The moon is nearly full tonight, glowing bright, reflecting in the black waters with the winking stars. The sails flutter softly in the wind, which feels even more bitter from the sea. Raihan shivers, scanning the deck until he spots Nessa standing near the rails, staring out across the water, the glow of her eyes brighter.

When she spots him from the corner of her eye, she waves him over silently. He walks in quick strides to her side, following her gaze to the water. His heart almost stops.

There is the glow of what appears to be a dozen pairs of eyes, at least. Watching the ship. Burning into him. Waiting, waiting. Raihan touches his pistol, glances at Nessa briefly to see how her grip on the rail has tightened so much he thinks she might break the wood and splinter, then looks back out. The eyes have gotten closer.

The light of the moon bounces off of glossy wet hair, smooth skin. A few of the creatures dive below the surface again while others remain. When he looks closer, he can see the faces of pretty young women. Too pretty, almost eerily so.

_Mermaids._

They aren't attacking—yet. They're only following the ship, but for how long? When the crew awakens it could be disastrous, he knows mermaids can be just as deadly as sirens, luring unsuspecting men and women into the waters before ripping them apart. Nasty creatures. They need to be chased off before they can attempt their magic.

It's then that he notices Nessa trembling beside him. Raihan looks down, sees how her pupils are mere pinpricks, how her brows are furrowed tightly, her lips quivering.

_After a few minutes of convincing, that girl swims back to the ship with Raihan with ease, like she was born for it. She won't speak to anyone on the ship, refuses to, and while Raihan is punished for disobeying his father's orders not to stop for the wayward boat, she is taken below deck to be cared for by the doctor._

_And for the times she returns to the deck the next few days, she sits with a blanket around her shoulders, staring out across the sea with a haunted look in her eyes._

"Nessa," Raihan says softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She doesn't react. "Nessa, look at me."

"What is one of us doing on a ship?" A light, musical voice rings out. "Tainted by the blood of man!"

"Tragedy! But her tainted blood still sings for us! Her heart still longs for the sea!"

"She could come to us, if she wanted to!"

Raihan grips Nessa's shoulder. " _Nessa._ "

"A better life for her in the sea, not among humanity. Sister, devour this man, destroy this ship, join us!" "Join us!" "Join us!"

A loud, ominous chanting of musical voices that blend together as one. It makes Raihan's skin crawl, makes his stomach turn. It isn't their first encounter with these creatures, but it's never pleasant no matter how many times it happens. They have lost a few crewmates who could not resist their otherworldly charms.

Nessa's movements are sudden. She's drawing her blade and for a moment Raihan thinks she might point it towards him. No, she's beginning to leap over the rails like she wants to fight the creatures that await her in the dark waters. Raihan drops his lantern, reaches out, catches her around the waist with one arm and yanks her back against him.

He draws his pistol and fires into the group of mermaids. It hits one in the shoulder and she lets out an ungodly shriek as blood sprays out before diving beneath the water. The others echo her cry. With Nessa struggling in his grasp, he manages to reload his pistol and fire again, missing one by just a hair. They cry out again, then disappear beneath the water.

When all is silent, when those glowing eyes are gone, Raihan drops his pistol. Against him he can feel Nessa shaking, can hear her weak whimpers. Sliding his hand slowly down her arm, he pries the blade from her grip and drops it down next to his pistol.

"It's okay," Raihan says softly against her hair, holding onto her with both arms now, keeping her gathered close. Desperately he wishes he could do more, so much more, but the hurt and fear and anger within her are not easily shaken—it’s bone-deep, aching, a terrible memory forever ingrained in her psyche. "You're all right. They won't hurt you. I won't let them."

Her body shakes with silent sobs.

_A week after her rescue, Raihan finds the girl snooping around his cabin. She startles when she notices him, her eyes wide._

_But Raihan isn't angry._

_"If you wanted to see my cabin, you could have just asked."_

_The girl stares at him, lips parted. And finally, finally she speaks, the very first time since she was rescued, her soft voice hoarse from lack of use, "I'm sorry."_

_They sit together on the floor. Quietly, she tells him her name is Nessa. She's only fourteen, a tad older than Raihan. She and her father had been lured out to sea by mermaids and left to die._

_One of those mermaids was her mother, angered that Nessa's father refused to let her daughter return to the sea—and Nessa didn't_ want _to anyway._

_Scales on her shoulders, her elbows, lantern light glinting off of the deep blue. Blue like her eyes. She looks strong, but her gaze and eyes are distant, vulnerable. Raihan swears that so long as she is part of this crew, he will always keep her safe._

_Always._

—

The mermaids were enough of a warning that they were veering into dangerous territory.

Sometimes, however, there isn’t much one can do about it. Raihan just has to make sure they can make their way out safely. The air is tense, the waters are dark even beneath the winter sun, it feels like there are a million eyes on them. Even Nessa has refused to go into the water today. Since the night before she’s looked distant, dazed, not unlike those years ago when she’d sit and stare out at the ocean, refusing to speak to anyone.

He worries, but he can’t let that worry get the better of him right now.

Out here, the cold feels so much worse, so much more merciless. His breath comes out in puffs of mist, his fingers feel stiff in his gloves. If he’s not careful he could freeze one off.

The further along they go, a fog begins to settle. Light at first, but it gets even more dense until Raihan struggles to see what’s beyond their ship. It wraps around his ankles, parts around him like water as he walks. The crew is unsettled, visibly so. So Raihan does his damnedest to appear strong, to keep his expression determined, even if he has his own creeping sense of unease. Ludo, despite having his ears perked up, alert, still whimpers nervously, his tail drooping.

The fog swallows up the sunlight. Raihan squints, breathes in deep, the cold air stinging his lungs. He walks swiftly to the edge of the ship, peering out as best as he can. It’d be so easy for them to crash into something with the little visibility they have, he’s sure this is the site of many shipwrecks. The thought makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

“Steady,” he calls. All they can do now is go slow as they navigate and hope the fog clears up soon. For now the water is calm, rocking the ship gently as they go. At the wheel, Bea is staring straight ahead, silent. A few men are adjusting the sails.

It’s a good few minutes when _it_ happens.

It starts quietly at first, a low melody that echoes across the area, but it catches the attention of everyone. Nessa looks alert now, her eyes wide, her hand flying to the sword at her hip. Raihan knows immediately what it is, what they’re about to face, and that they need to _get the hell out of there now._ First mermaids, now sirens? What shitty luck they’re having! He springs into action, rushing to help adjust the sails to pick up their speed once again, yelling for Bea to remain _focused_ at the wheel.

The melody grows louder, louder. It’s dizzying, otherworldly, enchanting. A fog not unlike the one around them begins to settle in his mind, but he shakes his head to chase it away. No, he won’t be falling victim to any manner of beast today, nor will his crew. He can see the dazed look falling on a few of their faces, their eyes distant. Bea looks tense, staring ahead, and Raihan can only hope her mental fortitude is enough to keep her from going straight to the source of the siren song, leading them to their demise.

“Focus. Focus!” He snaps, grabbing one man by the shoulder before he can venture too close to the side of the ship. Raihan feels breathless, his whole body wants to follow the source of the sound that’s all around them now. It’s only a single voice, but at the same time it sounds like many coming from every direction. His heart aches. Around them the fog begins to lift, casting them in the glow of the sun, revealing sharp stones jutting out of the water around them.

They narrowly avoid running right into one. Raihan’s heart pounds wildly, he feels ill. When he looks towards Nessa, he’s not surprised to see her looking unfazed by the song. Of course, it makes sense that she would be. Sirens and mermaids are distant cousins, after all. Both creatures of the sea. And a mermaid’s song could be just as hypnotic as a siren’s.

And then, almost as soon as it begins, it stops. Raihan shakes the daze from his mind, sees his crewmen do the same. Around them, among the pointed stones, he sees the remnants of old ships whose crews weren’t so lucky. If all remains silent they’ll be able to find their way out of here, they won’t end up like those unfortunate souls that he’s sure haunt this stretch of ocean to this day.

Deep breath. One, two, three. He rubs a hand over his face, feeling a wave of relief, and he opens his mouth to call out an order when the ship suddenly lurches to a halt, knocking him off balance. There is the rough sound of sand grating against the wood, water splashes on either side, and realization hits him fast.

The danger isn’t over yet. They’ve been lured far enough into the siren’s territory, and reached land where they’re likely to be attacked if they don’t move fast to push the ship back out. Raihan and Nessa share a glance and then, with Bea and a few other crewmates, they descend from the side of the ship and wade through the freezing shallows onto the shore. Raihan presses his back against the wood, his heels digging into the sand as he pushes with the others, grunting with effort.

But there is a sudden movement nearby, something breaking the surface of the water before disappearing beneath it again. Raihan snaps his head towards it, brows furrowed. He pulls off of the wood, standing straight, finding his blade at his side.

Nessa looks up, breathless. “Raihan, what—”

“Keep going,” he says, and he begins to move. Raihan isn’t normally one to act on impulse, he always takes a step back to evaluate the situation, to come up with a plan, but he _really_ wants the fucker who lured them out here dead. There is more movement under the water as he moves closer, evidently trying to get away from him quickly.

Raihan snarls, then lunges. He grabs a fistful of wet hair and… feathers? And yanks the creature out of the water, then slams it against the shore. Immediately sharp claws take a swipe at his chest, tearing through his shirt and into his skin, and while he grimaces it’s not enough to make him let go.

He kneels over it, stabs his sword into the wet sand beside its head, staring directly down into pale green eyes. Raihan keeps his hand in black and white hair, yanking the siren’s head back roughly when it tries to move again. What he registers as talons are digging into his thighs, drawing blood, and a heavy tail slams into the water, splashing it over him.

“You’re the one who brought us out here,” he snarls at the creature, who just stares up at him wordlessly. Its skin is so pale, there are heavy shadows around its eyes like it barely sleeps, its body is thin and frail. There are heavy, black feathered wings on its back, bent awkwardly where it's shoved into the sand. Black and white feathers flare out around its face among its hair, as well as stick out from its elbows, their shine dulled, though Raihan assumes they were once glossy. “I’m sorry to inform you that _I_ won’t be the one dying here.”

Grabbing his sword again, he pulls it back and is prepared to plunge it down into the siren’s chest before it finally speaks.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait—”

It catches Raihan so off guard that he _does_ stop, staring wide-eyed down at it.

_What?_

Its arms drop to its sides, its talons relinquishing their grip on Raihan’s thighs. He feels blood soaking his trousers, hot among the cold water. From the gashes on his chest, blood drips onto the siren beneath him. Raihan blinks a few times in dumb shock, then he thinks maybe he _should_ just get this over with and kill the creature instead of hearing it out, but…

“Wasn’t tryin’ to lead you out here,” the siren says. “Didn’t know you were here. I just like singing.”

“Like you don’t know what happens when you sing?” Raihan snaps.

“Of _course_ I know,” it grits out. “Am I supposed to stop?”

“Do you want people to die?”

“Not my problem,” it says, wriggling around. “You let me go, I’ll lead you and your crew out of here, and my family won’t bother you.”

At the mention of _family,_ Raihan suddenly feels what must be dozens of pairs of eyes on him from the water. He freezes up, thinking first to drop the blade to the sand. His grip on the siren’s hair loosens, enough for it to pull away. Raihan sucks in a trembling breath. “Family?”

“Yeah. I got a family. We take care of each other.” It manages to squirm out from under Raihan when Raihan sits back on his heels. “We just wanna be left alone. I got a little sister. You gonna kill her, too?”

Raihan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He exhales heavily through his nose when he feels the cold saltwater wash over the wounds on his legs. For now he doesn’t dare to stand up, unsure of what the creatures waiting in the water will do if he makes any sudden movement. The siren before him pulls its legs back, talons flexing, that black fish-like tail dragging through the sand.

“No, I won’t,” Raihan finally says. It hardly ever occurred to him that even creatures like sirens had families, had bonds—he had thought of them as mere bloodthirsty creatures. Even knowing the story of Nessa’s mermaid mother, who just proved his beliefs. But now… “We’ll leave. You said you’ll lead us out?”

“Mm.” It—he?—nods slowly, then drags himself up to his feet. He stretches his wings, furrowing his brow. When he looks down at Raihan, he tilts his head, mouth quirking up, something in his eye glinting. Is this funny to him? Raihan slowly pushes himself up to his feet, hissing when the pain in his wounds _really_ registers. “We’ll get your ship back in the water, too.”

Raihan follows the siren’s gaze to his ship a few yards away, where his crew have stopped and begun staring. In the water, Raihan sees heads of bright pink hair poking out before disappearing again. He rubs his hand over his face.

“If any of you try to attack us,” Raihan says. “I _will_ kill you.”

He bends down slowly to pick his sword up from the sand. Keeping it unsheathed, he turns back to his ship, then glances over his shoulder at the siren again. The way the siren moves is a little unnerving, unnatural with his bird-like legs, talons digging into the sand. He follows Raihan a few feet behind as Raihan walks, but each step makes him wince, and he can’t help but glance down so he can see the tears in his trousers, the ripped skin covered in water and blood.

“What’s your name?” Raihan can’t help but ask suddenly, coming to a stop to look back at the siren who is wading back into the shallows close to the ship. He looks back at him, blinking those tired eyes. But he looks… surprised that Raihan asked in the first place.

“Piers,” he replies. “Nothin’ special.”

“Okay. Piers.” Raihan limps towards his crew and Nessa is at his side immediately, helping him make the few steps back. Piers is looking back at him, so Raihan decides he’ll extend the same courtesy to him, “Raihan Kinsley.”

“Hmm…” Piers just nods. “Raihan. Sorry about your legs, and…” He gestures to his chest. “You know. I recommend getting it checked out soon, mate.”

It’s not fine, so Raihan doesn’t say it is. He just nods. If they change course they can get to Glimwood quickly, but Raihan hasn’t been back to Glimwood since…

Ugh. He doesn’t want to think about that at all.

They can go to Glimwood, get Raihan treated by a better skilled doctor than the one on the ship, and then they can leave immediately after. Shrugging Nessa’s arm off, he ignores the stinging pain in his legs for a few minutes to help push the ship once more while the group of sirens fully reveal themselves, some of them flying up to grip the other end of the boat and pull it back, others at the sides, pushing and pulling.

It takes another minute for them to finally push the ship out into the water. Climbing up the side of the ship, thus putting pressure on his injured legs isn’t a pleasant experience, and the second that he’s back on the deck he’s staggering over to the steps leading up to the quarterdeck and sitting down.

He reaches down, touches the torn up skin gently then hisses through his teeth. There are still little dribbles of blood, but for the most part the bleeding has stopped, but the combination of salt water and bits of sand make the pain worse. Raihan breathes in sharply, closes his eyes, then stands back up despite his better judgment.

The sound of wings beating is heavy above him, and when he opens his eyes he sees Piers landing on the deck in front of him. He folds his wings back, standing stock-still as a few of Raihan’s crewmen examine him from afar. They’re all already on high alert with the other sirens surrounding the ship, ready to draw their weapons in case there is a surprise attack. But from what Raihan can gather, Piers isn’t interested in blood.

He sings for no other reason than he _likes_ it. It just has some… unfortunate outcomes.

“Gonna lead you out now,” Piers states. “Make sure your lot are ready.” Then he turns and flies the short distance to the forecastle deck. Raihan sighs, then walks as quickly as his hurting legs can take him to give his crew a few soft, encouraging words in hopes that he can settle their nerves. They still look wary, but their hands move away from their weapons and they return to their places on the ship.

Piers perches on the bowsprit like a gargoyle as the ship departs from that little island. Raihan watches him closely all the while, always tensing when he flies back up into the air to circle around the masts, then dropping back down to mutter a few words to Bea at the wheel. If she’s unsettled she isn’t showing it; her ability to keep her expression completely neutral no matter the circumstance is a trait that Raihan envies. He’s getting better, but his face always betrays everything he feels.

The fog is thick again, but with Piers there they’re able to navigate it much easier than before. His green eyes glow much like Nessa’s do, Raihan assumes it helps him see through the mist better. The longer he watches the siren, the more intrigued he gets rather than nervous. He’d think Piers would be a lot more wary around humans, and while he does seem rather reserved, he’s still willing to help them without asking for anything in return.

“How do you feel about him?” Raihan can’t help but ask Nessa, his voice soft.

She folds her arms over her chest, watching the creature closely. Her expression is unreadable for now, but there is a slight tick downward of her brow. “I don’t know yet.”

The fog begins to dissipate again. Now there are no longer those sharp spikes sticking out from the water around them—it’s just the clear stretch of the ocean for miles ahead of them. The sun is still high in the sky. Raihan moves slowly across the ship towards Piers, who now is perched on the rails. He stares at Raihan, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Be more careful where you’re goin’ next time. I don’t like leavin’ home too much,” Piers says. “You come around again, I might not help.”

Raihan laughs, flat. “Right. Well. Thanks anyway. Who knows, maybe we _will_ see each other again.”

“Uh-huh. Wouldn’t count on it.” Piers looks ready to take off, but pauses for a moment, looking back at Raihan. He tilts his head. “Raihan, yeah?”

“Eh? Yeah.”

Piers scratches his jaw with one claw. “You jus’ remind me of someone I met before.” Then, to Raihan’s surprise, a sharp grin breaks across the siren’s face. “Reacted the same way you did, a bit. Well, a lot more calm, but those golden eyes…”

Something like lightning shoots down Raihan’s spine. His eyes widen, he takes a step forward when Piers flies off of the railing, ready to reach out to grab him by the wrist—but he’s _just_ out of arm’s reach. “Piers—”

The siren turns to look at him, wings beating.

“Who was it—?”

Piers blinks, raising a brow, then he huffs out a low laugh. Instead of replying, he just turns away, flies off, leaving Raihan staring after him even after he’s long gone. Fists are clenched so tight at his sides he swears his nails could break through the material of his gloves. Raihan breathes in slowly, then breathes out. He remains standing there until Nessa manages to practically drag him below deck to the doctor, where they thoroughly clean his injuries, suture the deeper ones on his legs, and wrap them in bandages.

He’s ushered back to his cabin, forced into his bed so he doesn’t put any more strain on his legs. When his head hits the pillow, he stares up at the ceiling. Last night, it was mermaids. Today, it was sirens. What else is this journey going to bring? In the next few days, they’ll likely be in Glimwood if Nessa relays his order to the crew, if they aren’t sidetracked even further.

But he’s stuck on what Piers had said to him before he left.

_Those golden eyes…_

It couldn’t be, could it?

He sees those golden eyes now, framed by long, dark lashes, big and shining yet still sharp and determined.

Raihan groans.

—

Glimwood comes faster than Raihan really realizes. Despite the doctor telling him otherwise, he continues his usual duties on the ship, returning to the doctor every few hours to change the bandages. To his luck, there is no infection, but it still hurts like hell. But he can ignore the pain while he works. God, he never thought he’d learn what a siren’s talons felt like, and he sure doesn’t want to feel it again.

They dock at Glimwood’s port. It’s just a tad warmer today, but with the ocean, the air is still biting. Regardless, people are wandering through the streets of the town like they usually do, just bundled up more than usual. Raihan walks carefully down to the dock with Nessa close behind, focused entirely on getting into town and to the doctor there, but Nessa suddenly catches his sleeve.

“Raihan,” she says softly, making him come to a halt so he can look over his shoulder at her. She doesn’t say anything besides turn her gaze to the side and tilt her head. Raihan follows her gaze to another ship docked nearby, and a mix of anger, frustration, and confusion flares in his chest immediately, creeping up as bile in his throat. More often than not he always finds himself the same places as _him,_ entirely by accident, or maybe fate just likes to toy with him. Maybe God thinks this is funny, constantly throwing him and the man he can’t stand unless he has him in his bed.

 _Establishing dominance,_ he always tries to tell himself.

No one knows about him and Leon’s… trysts, not even Nessa. None of his crew. All they know, or think, is that he’s formed some sort of odd rivalry with the other captain. Rivalry? They aren’t ever sure, actually, because Raihan prefers the term _enemies_ even if Leon has shown no real signs of hating Raihan as much as Raihan hates Leon.

The other captain is nowhere in sight, just a few of his crew on the ship. Raihan calms himself, swallows the bile in his throat, then turns his gaze away. They just have to get him to the doctor, treat his wounds better, maybe gather more supplies, and then leave. No need to stay longer than necessary, especially when _he_ is here, too.

“Ignore it,” Raihan says, then continues walking. He must be giving off some sort of dark aura, because people don’t greet him as much as they usually do when they see him, but it’s fine. As much as he likes to talk to others, as much as he prefers to be more open and friendly, he really isn’t in the mood considering… everything.

The doctor applies better medicine to his injuries after peeling his bandages off, inspects the sutures. She gives him a curious look when she sees his legs, but doesn’t pry. It’s for the best, he’d rather not get too into detail about how he ran into a siren and lived. It’s an ugly sight, he admits. He’s sure his legs will scar, but the cuts on his chest will likely heal quickly.

“I’d suggest spending a night here,” the doctor says. “You’ve been putting too much stress on the wounds. I can tell. Give yourself a night to rest up.”

Raihan immediately opens his mouth to protest, “But I—”

“You don’t want to open them again, do you?” The doctor presses her finger to his lips to silence him. “Just a night. Then you can leave. I’m sure you can bear with that.”

Raihan glances over to where Nessa stands in the doorway. She just nods. “Listen to the doctor, Raihan.”

He can’t win, can he?

—

When they go to the tavern that night, Nessa breaks off from him almost immediately, something else having caught her attention. Raihan scrunches his nose when she sticks her tongue out at him, but he doesn’t force her to stay. All he can really bring himself to do right now is order one drink then sit back near a corner, further away from the activity. It feels odd, since he’s usually glad to involve himself in their stories, their games, talking loud and laughing louder. But he has a dark cloud looming over his head, making him a little gloomy, so he’s happy to just nurse his drink and sit alone with his thoughts.

Across the tavern, he sees Nessa sitting close to a woman with fiery hair that he vaguely recognizes, their heads tucked close as they talk, sharing smiles, the red-haired woman blushing a little on occasion. Raihan can’t help but smile a bit at the sight. It’s good that Nessa seems to have found someone, even if they can’t see one another often—Raihan knows how lonely she gets at times, even with him around, even with their crew.

But that smile falls when the doors open and he sees a far-too-familiar head of violet hair, followed close behind by a few men and women. Leon is… smiling as he speaks to a few of his crewmen, but it’s not those sly, cocky smiles he always gives Raihan. It’s big, bright, and genuine, dimples in his cheeks and his eyes scrunched up. He laughs at something one of them says, it’s a nice sound, but it doesn’t warm Raihan’s heart, not at all, it just makes his frustration grow because… no matter how much he hates Leon, he can’t deny that he’s handsome, and well-loved, and he can see why people are drawn to him.

That woman with red hair sitting next to Nessa perks up, Raihan notices, and waves to Leon briefly. Ah. They must know each other. Part of Leon’s crew, maybe. Now he’s not so sure about Nessa’s choice.

Raihan turns his attention back to his drink. Part of him is tempted to drink until he blacks out now, but the other knows that he’ll definitely do something extremely stupid if he gets to that point. As if he hasn’t been making extremely stupid decisions constantly when it comes to Leon while sober. Raihan just hopes Leon hasn’t noticed him, but Raihan is… hard to miss, what with being significantly larger than most people.

He drinks quietly, occasionally throwing glances across the tavern where he sees Leon sitting with his crew. Leon himself doesn’t have a drink yet, but it looks like he’s bought his men a round. They will probably be there for a while, and Raihan knows it’s going to be difficult to slip out unnoticed. So he just sits, decides he’s going to wait it out, hopes that if Leon notices him he won’t say or do anything.

When he’s finally to the bottom of his own drink, he notices Leon’s suddenly sitting himself down on top of the table surrounded by his men, a drink finally in his hand. His hat is still on, his coat falls loosely off of his shoulders, his shirt hanging partially open. The lanterns around the tavern make him look like he’s glowing in their orange and golden light, and if Raihan didn’t know any better he might have thought he was an angel sent by God Himself.

It doesn’t help when he starts to _sing._ The noise of the tavern dies down almost immediately, all eyes turning to their Champion perched on the table with one leg crossed over the other, drink in his hand, eyes fluttered shut with his lashes brushing over his cheekbones.

“ _Upon one_ [_summer's morning_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIydPbfdPfQ)

_I carefully did stray,_

_Down by the Walls of Wapping_

_Where I met a sailor gay._

_Conversing with a young lass,_

_Who seem'd to be in pain,_

_Saying, William, when you go_

_I fear you'll ne'er return again—_ ”

Raihan thinks back to those mermaids, thinks back to the sirens, thinks of their songs, haunting and beautiful, and he thinks that they are nothing compared to this. It’s like a siren’s song, enchanting, but tugs at Raihan’s heart and mind more than a siren ever could, like Leon is trying to lure him in. Like Leon wants him in his grasp again, to devour him whole. And Raihan, for a moment, thinks he would let him.

Leon opens his eyes— _those golden eyes_ —which suddenly flit across the tavern, landing directly on Raihan. Their gazes meet, Raihan stiffens up, and Leon has a tiny grin on his face as he keeps their eyes locked and sings, “ _My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold—_ ”

It makes Raihan snap. He stands up quickly, too quickly, finding the stairs to the upper floor of the tavern because he doesn’t want to draw further attention to himself by leaving through the front.

“ _—There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold._ ”

Raihan presses his back to the wall, breathing heavily, his heart pounding. He feels like his legs might give out beneath him, the wounds aching and burning. It’s all too much, anger and confusion making him feel sick, the taste of alcohol not enough to overpower the bitter illness at the back of his tongue.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, leaning against the wall, his head tilted back as he stares blankly at the ceiling. The noise resumes at some point in the tavern below, but it sounds muted from up here. Raihan considers purchasing a room to stay in for the night so he doesn’t have to face anyone, so he doesn’t risk running into him, so he can get the sound of his singing out of his head but _fuck,_ it just won’t leave, he can’t stop thinking about how Leon looked directly at him and—

There are footsteps coming up the stairs. Raihan thinks he should hide away until whoever it is passes, but something keeps him rooted in place and _God_ he wishes it didn’t because he can’t bear to look at that face that appears in the hall. That strong jaw, those soft cheeks, those big eyes and thick brows, full lips still bearing that small scar caused by Raihan himself.

They stand in silence for a few long moments, just looking at each other.

Leon blinks, then smiles, but he says nothing, just approaches one of the doors with a key in hand. He’s in the middle of unlocking it when Raihan decides he’s going to make a stupid choice. Again. Or he doesn’t really realize he’s making that choice until it’s too late, until he’s already pressed against Leon’s back, a hand sliding around to Leon’s front to press him close. He feels the other shudder.

“What was that?” Raihan grits out. “Down there. What was that?”

“I was just singing,” Leon murmurs. Raihan ducks his head down, uses his other hand to push Leon’s soft hair out of the way so he can puff hot breaths over the now-exposed skin of Leon’s neck. Fuck, he still smells freshly of roses. His lips lightly brush against the two moles there, normally hidden by his hair. “I like to sing. You didn’t like it? You ran away.”

That’s the most infuriating thing. He _did_ like it, but he wishes he didn’t. He wishes he hated it, he wishes Leon had sounded like a dying whale, or something, but with Raihan’s luck he doesn’t. “I didn’t know you could.” Raihan brushes his teeth over the vulnerable skin of Leon’s neck and Raihan feels his pulse jump where his hand is pressed just below Leon’s chest. That hand slides up, over Leon’s chest, up to Leon’s throat. Leon’s pulse jumps again, beats rapidly beneath Raihan’s fingers.

“Well,” Leon says, voice quiet. “I can.” Raihan drops his hand as Leon twists the key and opens the door. They’re inside of the room within moments and Raihan is kicking the door shut behind him. Leon turns around so quickly his hat falls to the floor, grabs Raihan by the front of his coat and yanks him down for a messy kiss, teeth clicking together. This is always how it goes, Raihan should have expected it the second he saw that ship.

“Wait,” Raihan suddenly breathes into his mouth. “How much did you drink?”

“Just one,” Leon replies, his tone betraying the surprise that Raihan asked at all. Raihan doesn’t know how to feel about that.

He just nods slowly.

Leon moans softly when Raihan takes hold of his rear and squeezes, while his own hands run up Raihan’s chest, lingering briefly on the healing cuts there before moving on to push that coat off and fumble with the buttons of his shirt.

“How do we keep meeting?” Raihan says breathlessly into Leon’s mouth as Leon walks him back to the bed. When he feels the back of his knees hit the edge, he sits down, and Leon is immediately straddling his lap. He shrugs his own coat off, tossing it aside, makes quick work of his shirt to fully expose his chest for Raihan to nuzzle into. Against his skin, Raihan continues, “Everywhere I go, you’re always there—”

“Coincidence,” Leon replies, letting out a soft sound when Raihan nips then sucks at one nipple. When he drops down fully on Raihan’s lap, Raihan can’t help but grunt and wince at the weight putting uncomfortable pressure on his injuries. If Leon notices, he doesn’t show it. “I’m not— mm— I’m not following you, if that’s what you think.”

Six times. Six times now they’ve found themselves in this position, sharing a bed together, kissing and fucking rough, hard, fast. Six times too many, even though Raihan had told himself after the first time it’d never happen again. Every single time he tells himself that, but he can hardly believe it now. This will probably keep happening for a long time unless Leon gets bored of him and the thought of Leon suddenly losing interest makes Raihan’s anger flare.

No, Leon won’t get bored of him, Leon won’t toss him aside, Raihan’s going to prove himself like he’s had to prove himself to everyone else. He won’t let _Leon Khanna_ of all people to think of him as disposable.

“Raihan…” Leon’s soft call of his name snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see Leon staring at him, his brows raised. A thumb presses to Raihan’s bottom lip. “You’re in pain?”

So he did notice.

“I…” Raihan can’t worm his way out of this one. Once his trousers are off the bandages will show, and Leon’s already seen the wounds on his chest. “Yes.”

“You always tell me to mind my business,” Leon murmurs as he pulls his boots off, then drops down onto his knees between Raihan’s legs. He unbuckles his belt and pops open the button of his trousers. “But what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Raihan replies. He sucks in a harsh breath when Leon pulls his cock out, giving it slow strokes. “You don’t care anyway.”

Leon hums low but says nothing, and for the next few minutes he occupies himself by sucking Raihan off. Raihan tilts his head back and groans, one hand coming to rest on the back of Leon’s head, fingers tangling into his hair, guiding the movements of his head. When Leon takes him all the way in his hips jerk, he gives a yank on his hair that makes Leon moan around his mouthful.

“Leon,” Raihan says roughly. “I’m close—”

That’s enough to make Leon pull off of him suddenly. With his blushing cheeks, his reddened lips parted as he lets out soft pants, spit running down his chin and eyes watery, hair a mess from Raihan’s hands, he looks absolutely debauched. Gorgeous. Raihan can’t help but drag him up for another kiss, their tongues licking messily into each other’s mouths. All Raihan wants to do is claim him again, and again, and again— _No one can do this but me—_

He’s vaguely aware of Leon tugging his trousers down, exposing the bandages wrapped around his thighs. When the article of clothing is gone, Leon rises to his feet, wiggling out of his own trousers while Raihan eyes the movements of his hips as he does.

“Lie down,” Leon suddenly says, leaning over to press his hand against Raihan’s chest. He minds the wounds, at least. Raihan doesn’t protest, doesn’t fight it, he just carefully moves his legs onto the bed and lies back fully. The bed creaks under Leon’s added weight as he climbs in, hovers over Raihan, stares down at him with that grin that always makes fire flare up in Raihan’s chest. “I don’t want you hurting yourself more. Looks like you got into a nasty fight. Let me— ah—!”

Raihan’s already reached around to push two fingers into Leon’s cunt, already so wet, so easy to slide into despite how damn _tight_ it is, and he can’t wait to feel that tightness around his cock. Every time it feels so fucking amazing, drives him crazy, makes him want to fuck Leon into an incoherent, drooling mess, only able to focus on the cock inside of him.

Leon catches himself before he slumps down on Raihan’s chest, bracing himself on his elbows and panting as Raihan fucks him with long, skilled fingers. He feels Leon clench around the digits needily, hears him whine, sees his face scrunch up in that way it always does when Raihan moves just right.

Finally, Leon reaches back and grabs Raihan’s wrist, forcing him to pull his fingers out. Leon bites his lip and shivers, then sits himself back up onto his knees. “Stay still,” he breathes out, then slips his hand down his front until he reaches Raihan’s cock lying heavily against his thigh. All Raihan can do is stare up at him, wondering why they haven’t tried this position before. He’s so used to Leon being underneath him, but he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the view now.

The tight heat that envelops his cock makes Raihan throw his head back with a groan. Leon sinks down on him with ease, releasing his cock when it’s halfway inside of him so he can lean back on his hands. Raihan watches Leon’s chest heave, watches his thighs quake every so often, how the muscle in his abdomen shifts with his movements. He slides his hands over the sheets to settle them on Leon’s thighs.

Then Leon begins to move, bouncing in his lap, fucking himself on his cock with his head tilted back and lips parted to let out those sweet noises, sweet as his singing is. Raihan doesn’t move much for fear of aggravating his wounds, letting Leon do most of the work like he wants to, just reveling in the sight of the Champion riding him like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Raihan runs his hands from Leon’s thighs, along his hips, his side, then to his chest where he massages his breasts in his palms, rubs his fingers over his nipples, finally noticing just how well they fit in his hands. He hears Leon laugh a little bit before he leans forward, a hand on Raihan’s chest.

And not unlike what Raihan did to him before, Leon slips that hand upward until it’s at his throat. But he applies pressure this time, not enough to choke Raihan but enough that he jolts a little in alarm, that he gets a little dizzy but _fuck,_ the feeling along with Leon taking his cock is so much, so good; he can’t take it much longer. Both hands drop from Leon’s chest back to his hips, gripping tight as Leon moves.

He vaguely registers Leon using his free hand to rub his clit, manages to catch a glimpse of it for a moment, but his orgasm is upon him so quickly and suddenly he can’t even give a warning. Raihan lets out a shout, thrusting his hips up as he comes deep into Leon, making Leon squirm and gasp. Each time Leon slams down, his body jolts, clearly so close to his own release while he milks Raihan out.

With a weak cry, Leon comes, clenching tight around Raihan’s cock, his whole body shaking. The hand at Raihan’s throat pulls back to rest on his abdomen instead. Leon whimpers and squirms on his cock, riding out his high until he can’t move anymore, until he’s just sitting uselessly in Raihan’s lap while he shivers.

Raihan has half the mind to just shove him off, but he’s not that cruel. Instead, he guides Leon off of his cock until the man is lying beside him, his breathing heavy, sweat making strands of long hair stick to his face.

They lie there for a minute to recover, not looking at each other, not speaking to each other. When their breathing calms, the silence is almost deafening. Suffocating. The air is still hot around them, still smells like sex mixed with roses, such a familiar scent that Raihan both wants to run away from and drown in.

He should go.

He sits up slowly, his limbs still feeling a little weak, and is about to climb out of the bed when he feels a touch against his elbow. Raihan turns his head quickly to see Leon lying on his side, looking up at him with an expression he can’t really comprehend.

“Raihan,” he says softly, running his fingers from Raihan’s elbow down to his wrist. “Stay.”

No, he really shouldn’t. He should be getting out of here, back to his ship before someone starts to wonder where he is, if they haven’t started already. Staying here is dangerous, he doesn’t know what he might do, but the expression on his face now that Raihan really _looks_ is… pleading?

Another stupid choice he’s going to make tonight.

Raihan doesn’t say anything. He just lies down again but keeps his back to Leon, tries to keep as much space between them as he possibly can on this bed that’s far too small for two people. And he swears he feels Leon’s fingers ghost over his spine before pulling away so Leon can turn over, their backs to one another.

First mermaids, then sirens, now Leon.

Raihan doesn’t sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mermaids and sirens and leon...oh my!
> 
> anyway they're not in love yet but i sure fucking wish they were
> 
> also piers Will appear more in future chapters i promise
> 
> ANYWAY thanks everyone for the continued support it means a lot :,) i hope you continue to support me and this fic!
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memory of three gunshots, three bodies hitting floorboards above him echoes in his mind. The memory of blood dripping through the floorboards. The memory of his little brother on his shoulders as he raced through the streets, away from soldiers, getting lost in the process but managing to escape regardless.
> 
> _You were supposed to keep him safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it cut me sharp hearing you'd gone away,  
> but everything goes away, yeah [everything goes away](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqc2uOunPdA).
> 
> ( explicit sexual content in the beginning. savor it because it'll be the last for a bit.
> 
> trigger warning for panic attacks. )

Leon wakes up with the sun shining on his face and something large and warm next to him. He scrunches his eyes shut again, bringing his arm up to shield them from the light, then slowly turns onto his back. First, he registers that he's naked. Second, he can feel the remnants of something sticky and dry between his thighs. Third, his legs are aching.

Next, he turns his head to the man beside him, whose back remains to him. Muscle shifting beneath lovely dark skin with a scar here and there (one he's noticed before, a mark on his side like something tried to take a bite out of him), locs falling free of their tie, but Leon can't see his face. What expression does Raihan wear now, he wonders? Is he asleep? Leon would have expected him to be gone by now.

He doesn't really know what possessed him the night before to ask Raihan to stay. A sudden rush of loneliness, maybe—a need for something, someone, familiar. Why the man who looks at him with such burning intensity, anger brewing in those bright blue eyes? Not even Leon really understands.

But for the first time in weeks, he slept through the night undisturbed by nightmares.

Curious.

One hand reaches over, fingertips ghosting over the length of Raihan's spine. Leon watches his muscles tense, sees him go stiff, hears his breath hitch. Ah, so he _is_ awake. A smile creeps over his lips. His thumb digs into a knot beneath Raihan's shoulder, rubbing slowly, carefully. The man breathes in sharply but says nothing, doesn't even move. So Leon rolls completely over and presses in with his other fingers, rubbing slowly until the knot loosens entirely. Raihan breathes a low sigh.

"You're tense," he says. His breath puffs out over Raihan's back. "Is that my fault?"

Raihan says nothing. Irritation flares up in Leon, but as soon as it's there, it disappears. Every time they fuck, Raihan refuses speak to him after. There is no time _to_ speak. Leon has to slip out of Raihan's ship without being seen, or Raihan has to leave the inn before someone notices his absence. Except now. Raihan can talk to him now, maybe explain why he hates Leon so much but apparently has no problem fucking him, why he keeps coming back to him, why those blue eyes still linger in his mind—

_Please look at me._

Leon sits up.

He huffs, then slowly maneuvers himself over Raihan and out of the bed. He retreats, briefly, to relieve himself and clean the mess between his legs, and when he returns he finds Raihan is still in the bed, but has rolled onto his back, sprawled out over it with one arm hanging off the side and the other over his face. He's so tall that his feet hang off the bed when he has his legs stretched out.

And… he left no room for Leon.

Well…

Leon simply walks over, casual as can be, and plops himself down on Raihan's belly. The man grunts, moves his arm to glare up at Leon while Leon smiles like the cat that ate the canary.

"Looks like you're not going anywhere now," Leon states, puffing his chest out.

"I could throw you off of me any time I'd like," Raihan retorts with a wrinkle of his nose. "Jumped up little shit."

"Then why don't you? If it's so easy." He slides his hand up, up, up, the touch light and gentle… before he pinches Raihan's nose and tugs. Raihan snaps at his fingers and within moments he's surging upright with an iron grip on Leon's waist.

A mark is sucked into Leon's neck. Leon tilts his head back with a little sigh, fingers pushing through Raihan's locs, pressing his face closer. Raihan nips and licks at the tender skin there, more marks appearing among the ones from the night prior.

"Did you sleep at all?" Leon can't help but ask. "You look exhau— mmh—" Raihan's slid his hands down to Leon's rear, massaging the soft flesh in callused palms. "Raiha _an_."

"So sensitive," Raihan murmurs against his skin. It makes Leon flush red.

"You didn't answer my question," Leon manages to say, his hands falling onto Raihan's shoulders. His fingers dig into the tense muscle again, thumbs rubbing over his collarbones.

"I didn't sleep," Raihan replies. "You made it hard."

"That's not the only thing I make h—"

Raihan shoves Leon off of him while Leon laughs, catching himself before he tumbles off of the bed. He lunges forward again, grabbing Raihan by the arms and pinning him down. Hovering over him, Leon grins. Raihan has the cutest pout on his face now, so unlike his usual fierce expressions when he's around Leon.

"I could tire you out a bit more," he practically purrs. "Maybe you'll get some sleep. All you have to do is lie back…"

When Leon looks behind him, he can see that Raihan is already half-hard. So he releases one of Raihan's arms to reach back, taking hold of his cock, watching Raihan grit his teeth. Slowly he strokes it, thumb brushing occasionally over the tip. "Is this good?" Leon breathes. "Do you want me to stop?"

Raihan lets out a low whine that quickly turns into a growl. He yanks his arm from Leon's grasp easily, his other already flying to his hip. Both circle around to his rear and drag him forward, making Leon gasp in surprise, releasing his hold on Raihan's cock.

He finds himself hovering over Raihan's face, balancing on his knees, while Raihan peers up at him expectantly with those sharp blue eyes. Leon blinks, momentarily dazed, before he finally realizes what Raihan wants. The realization sends a shock down his spine, making the dampness between his legs grow.

Leon presses his palm flat against the wall, keeping his head tipped down, his hair spilling over his shoulder. Then he lowers himself down slowly, enough that when Raihan opens his mouth and flicks his tongue out he's able to reach his damp folds. Leon shivers at the feeling. Raihan does it again, his tongue dragging over Leon's entrance, slick and hot and making Leon's legs feel a little weak.

He huffs out a sigh, then drops himself down. Raihan grunts softly in surprise, having to adjust himself a bit so he doesn't put too much strain on his neck. Leon grins at the sight but that grin is quickly wiped away when Raihan makes quick work of lapping at him, kissing at him, teasing his hole that clenches around nothing. Leon gasps, rocking his hips slowly.

"Glad that mouth is good for something," he teases, then yelps when Raihan smacks his rear in response. It sends sparks up his spine. When Raihan growls against him, he swears he feels the vibration.

Leon bites his lip, curving his spine as he lolls his head back. That mouth is second-best to Raihan's cock, hot and relentless, working him up, up, up until he feels light, until he feels dizzy. His free hand comes down to grip tight onto Raihan's locs, keeping his head steady when Leon begins to move proper.

Each grind of his hips forwards makes Raihan's nose lightly brush his clit. Leon moans softly, his eyes fluttering shut. He's slow at first while he rocks against Raihan's eager, hungry mouth, the man not ceasing his licking and sucking and kissing even as Leon moves. One of Raihan's hands releases Leon's rear, and when Leon throws a glance over his shoulder he sees that Raihan has begun stroking himself in time with each roll of Leon's hips.

It makes him grin, maybe a little too proud of himself. "This— mm— you like this?" His voice is breathless, but he manages to keep it mostly steady besides that. Raihan hums against him.

Leon gives an airy laugh. The hand in Raihan's locs tugs, and then the one on the wall comes down to join it. The movements of his hips get faster, he grinds down harder, riding Raihan's face enthusiastically. Why haven't they done this before? It makes him feel powerful in a way. So used to being at Raihan's mercy in bed, and now…

"Take it—" Leon pants. Raihan groans under him, those blue eyes fluttering shut. The man under him is breathing hard through his nose, the hot breath tickling Leon's skin. "Good boy. Such a good boy—"

Raihan groans again, hips jerking. Oh, did Leon hit the right spot, then? Does Raihan get off to stuff like that? Interesting; it's something they have in common. Leon thinks he'll use this to his advantage.

"Love that mouth of yours," Leon presses down hard while Raihan drags the flat of his tongue along him. "You're doing so good. You really are— _ah!_ — the best I've had."

He pulls off for a moment to let Raihan breathe properly, only to be pulled back down again. Leon lets out a garbled moan when his clit is given a hard suck and oh, God, he's going to come soon. He can feel it approaching faster, faster. Each roll of his hips is getting sloppier, more desperate, his legs trembling, his toes curling, grip on Raihan's locs tightening.

With one more suck to his clit he's coming with a shout, his whole body jolting, hips jerking as he rides out his high until he can't handle it anymore. Leon pulls off and Raihan lets him, and when he looks back he sees Raihan coming into his hand, across his belly.

When he sits back on Raihan's abdomen (thus getting Raihan's release onto his skin, which is a tad uncomfortable) and looks down at him, chest heaving, face hot, he tracks the movement of the man's tongue as it swipes out over his lips, runs over that golden fang slowly. Then he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Raihan," Leon breathes, adjusting his position so that they're chest-to-chest. Their mouths meet, tongues brushing, sharing heavy breaths. Raihan has a hard grip on his waist, nails lightly digging in; this must be so easy for him, keeping Leon in place like this, using his size to his advantage.

He moans into the kiss, but his rational brain manages to take over, pushing his arousal to the back of his mind. If he stays here any longer he doesn't think he'll be able to leave this bed for a while. Soon he has to be back at his ship to make sure everything and everyone is in order before they depart, and he still hasn't met with the witch—no, _wizard,_ he corrects himself—Opal yet.

Leon pulls away from the kiss and laughs breathlessly. "I need to be going. Sleep," he says softly. "The innkeeper will wake you up in a while."

Raihan blinks at him, squeezes his waist, then lets him go. "Okay."

"You don't want me to leave?"

"I want you to leave," Raihan mutters, looking anywhere but Leon now. Something about that makes Leon's heart give a painful twinge. Why did that hurt? It's the same as every single time before this, why did he expect any different? He doesn't really understand, but he hopes that flash of hurt doesn't show. Even Raihan isn't permitted to see that vulnerable part of him. During sex, bared entirely before Raihan, he's still extremely guarded. For his sake, for their sake.

"I take it you still hate me," Leon states flatly as he climbs off of Raihan and out of the bed.

"I do."

"Fine," Leon replies. He eyes Raihan as the man uses the thin bed sheets to wipe off his hand and belly. Leon wordlessly goes to clean himself up again, then returns to quickly gather his things. Once all of his clothes are on, his shirt and coat buttoned, his hat resting comfortably on his head, sword at his hip, when he figures he's as presentable as he can get post-coitus, he drops the room key onto the table next to the bed. "The innkeeper can keep a secret."

He leaves the room with swift steps, feeling Raihan's gaze boring into his back until the door shuts behind him.

—

"You're troubled," Opal says the moment he steps inside. She's brewing something that smells rather foul while her apprentice watches. How she can tell without even looking up from her work is beyond Leon—is he simply giving off that energy? Though, a lot of things about Opal are beyond him and he learns not to question it most times. She keeps many things about herself a secret, and he cannot fault her for that when he does the exact same.

Leon decides to leave the statement unanswered as he walks up to the counter. Bede throws him a glance from the corner of his eye before going back to ignoring him. The boy squints at a large book, then pops open a bottle of red liquid to pour into the small pot. A puff of smoke immediately erupts from it, causing both he and Leon to startle.

"Just a drop, Bede. Not half of the bottle," Opal scolds. The boy's ears are red.

"Sorry, miss Opal," he mumbles.

"I'm sure it's still usable," Leon can't help but comment.

Opal gives him a pointed look. "Maybe so! But we settle for nothing but perfect here. I only have so much time left to teach." She looks back at Bede. "Bede, get the dear captain's medicine for him."

Bede nods and leaves swiftly, doing well to keep his head high despite whatever embarrassment he might be feeling for being admonished in front of someone. When he's gone, Opal extinguishes the fire beneath the pot.

"You're troubled," Opal repeats. "It isn't often you come here with that dark cloud over your head."

"Are you worried?" Leon can't help but chuckle. "How unlike you."

"I've known you for years, child. Can I not show some concern over your well-being?" She hobbles up to the counter.

"I'd rather you didn't. This time, at least."

"Your attitude isn't very pink today," Opal grumbles. "What is it, did you get your heart broken?"

Leon blinks slowly, mouth hanging open. Did he get his _heart broken_? Absolutely not. Certainly there was some disappointment, a little bit of hurt over how easily Raihan seems to push him away, how Raihan refuses to _talk_ to him. How, despite Leon's best efforts, he still won't allow Leon know him. Then again, to have his heart broken would mean…

"I'd have to be in love for that to happen," he says. Love is not a foreign concept to Leon. He loves his crew, he loves his brother, but the concept of _romantic_ love is so far removed from his life. Sex is one thing, creating a bond like _that_ is another. He isn't in love, no, but he _is_ curious.

"If you insist," Opal hums. "What you get up to outside of this shop is none of my concern."

Bede comes back just in time with a heavy crate, setting it on the counter with a grunt. Leon places the payment down and lifts the crate up easily with one arm.

"We'll meet again," Leon says. "You won't be dying on me just yet."

"I can't promise anything," she says. She is about to turn away when she perks up suddenly, her arm reaching forward with surprising speed. One wrinkled hand grabs Leon's sleeve before he can turn. "I almost forgot to mention. That pretty little red-haired woman—Sonia, is it? She came by looking for you. Seemed rather panicked. She told me to have you meet her back at your ship. I suggest going immediately."

Sonia was looking for him?

Panicked?

Leon just nods, barely manages a 'thank you' before he's rushing out of the shop, nearly dropping the crate as he goes. He has to get back to the ship, it's not often Sonia gets so concerned she comes looking for him; she usually likes figuring things out herself. Worry is already gnawing at his belly, he doesn't realize his fast walk has turned into a jog, then a run. Cora is back at the ship, she can't guide him this time, but he only gets _slightly_ lost before he completes what should have been a short journey to the port.

The second he's on the ship and setting the crate down, he hears quick, heavy footsteps. Sonia is upon him immediately, her grip on his arms like iron. Her eyes are wide, frantic, _wet._ It looks like she's been crying, there is sweat on her brow, her hair is a mess. Cora is racing after her, barking.

"Leon," she says breathlessly. "Leon, thank God, I've been looking for you all morning." She doesn't even bother to scold him, no demands to know just where he's been. Something _is_ wrong.

"Sonia," he says, his heartbeat picking up. Both of his hands come to hold her face. "Sonia, what happened?"

"It's awful, just awful. Leon, it's Hop. He's gone. Missing. His cabin is a mess—"

Whatever she says next is distant in his ears. It feels like he's just gotten shot right through the heart, he's struggling to process what she's telling him. Hop, gone? Why would he be gone? Did he just wander off into Glimwood on his own? But Leon assumes that if he did, he would have returned by morning.

"He hasn't just run off?" He finally responds. He can't panic yet. Not yet. Not until he figures out what is going on here.

"No. No. Leon, you need to come see this. Now." Sonia grabs his wrist and drags him across the ship, forcing him below deck and to the officer's quarters. Leon practically stumbles after her, his heart racing, trying to hold onto hope that this isn't really some kind of emergency. That Hop is fine, he'll be back soon.

That hope flies out the window when he sees the state of the boy's quarters.

The hammock has been torn down, the desk has been knocked over with papers strewn across the floor, the bottle of ink staining the parchment and the wood. A lantern lies near one wall, shattered like it was thrown, and there is—

_Blood._

Droplets of blood on the floor, a bloody dagger in the middle of the room. Hop's dagger. Leon steps inside further, staring at the scene before him. On the floor near the torn-down hammock he sees that lamb doll flopped uselessly on its side.

"It's my fault," Sonia chokes out. "He told me he wanted to stay and study his reading. I thought someone would be watching the ship while we were away. I should have stayed with him, or brought him along. I shouldn't have left him alone. Leon, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"

Leon barely processes her words. Everything sounds muted, his head feels foggy, dizzy. He can't think. He feels numb with a chill gripping him tight. Hop is gone, someone entered the ship when no one was around, found his brother, hurt him and stole him away.

_"I'm always going to protect you," Leon says into the six-year-old's hair after fending off the older children who tried to hurt him. "No one can hurt you. Not when I'm around."_

Those visions that always haunt his dreams of Hop, broken and bloody and lifeless, flash through his mind. The chill turns into heat, his chest is tight, he can't breathe. He _can't breathe._ Leon takes a step back, then whips around, shoving past Sonia, racing through the ship until he reaches his own cabin.

The moment the door slams shut behind him he's collapsing onto his knees, hunching over, his hat falling to the floor. Leon wheezes, his lungs fighting for air, his chest heaving. The room spins around him, he has to keep his head low and wide eyes on the floor. He thinks he might vomit. A horrible, painful feeling grips his heart and _squeezes_ and he wants this to just be another nightmare. So desperately wants this to be another nightmare.

He drops forward onto his hands and wails.

When the cabin door opens he doesn't even attempt to compose himself. He uses one shaking hand to pop open the buttons of his coat—it feels too tight, too hot, but he still struggles to breathe.

If he went back to the ship last night, if he didn't get so damn " _preoccupied_ " then maybe he could have prevented this. Maybe he could have been there to protect his little brother like he always promised. Maybe his walls wouldn't be crumbling down entirely for the first time in years.

"Leon," Sonia says, dropping down next to him, grabbing his shoulder. "Leon, Leon, shh. We'll find him, we will, whoever took him can't have gone too far—"

"They want me," he chokes out. "They're looking for me. They took him because they know I'll go looking for him."

He hunches over further until his forehead presses to the floor. "God knows what they'll do to him."

"I've already sent a few men into town. They'll be looking as best as they can." Her voice is trembling. "Leon, please, calm down. Look at me."

He doesn't. He can't look at her.

"This isn't your fault. It’s mine," he croaks out. And that is all he says before he forces himself onto his feet, shakily grabs his hat and blade, and bursts out of the cabin. He can't think properly, all of his focus is on his brother, finding his brother, making sure his brother is safe because he can't lose him. Can't lose him like he already lost the rest of his family.

 _If he dies, it's your fault,_ he brain tells him. The memory of three gunshots, three bodies hitting floorboards above him echoes in his mind. The memory of blood dripping through the floorboards. The memory of his little brother on his shoulders as he raced through the streets, away from soldiers, getting lost in the process but managing to escape regardless.

_You were supposed to keep him safe._

He's rushing back into Glimwood, shoving past anyone who doesn't step out of the way in time. Blood roars in his ears as he runs, and runs, and runs. Even as he calls Hop's name it sounds so distant to his ears. Leon doesn't know where he's going, he's already lost, but he doesn't care.

All he cares about is finding his brother.

Whoever took him will die. Leon will kill them when he finds them. Gutted, disemboweled, brains blown out, bodies left for the birds. Leon will make it slow, he'll make it painful, and he'll make sure it sends a message to anyone else who tries to take his brother away from him.

He runs until he can't run anymore, until the cold air makes his throat raw, until his body is too hot and his lungs won't work with him. Leon stumbles, presses himself in the gap between two buildings then sinks down. Both knees are drawn up to his chest.

A sob rips itself out of his throat. His lungs rattle. Hot tears soak his cheeks. There are black spots in his vision—is he going to faint? Leon feels so weak, so vulnerable. So useless and terrible and helpless. He said he'd always protect Hop and now Hop, if the boy is still alive, must think he's a fucking liar. Leon can't begin to imagine what his brother is feeling. Is he scared? He must be. But he's sure he's trying to put on a brave face. That dagger of his was covered in blood, he must have fought back before he was taken away.

As much as Leon wants to be proud when that thought crosses his mind, he can't. Pride won't bring Hop back to him. He needs to breathe, stop crying, stand up and go back to the ship so they can figure out what's going on, if there were any clues left behind by his captors.

They want Leon to come to them. They have to have left something, right? Something to lead him straight into their trap.

Leon tries to lift his head, tries to push himself up, but his dizziness overtakes him and he collapses again. The black spots in his vision multiply, grow. He really might pass out, right here in this alley. How pathetic that would be. The Champion of the Seas reduced to a frantic, panicked, dazed, sobbing mess. But his reputation hardly matters to him now. If anyone sees him like this, he can't bring himself to care.

A shadow casts over him, someone blotting out the sunlight as they stand in the entrance of the alley, staring down at him. Leon manages to look up blearily to meet familiar blue eyes that look at him with something unreadable swimming in the depths.

"I told you to sleep," he says weakly. "How did you… find… me?"

Raihan kneels before him but doesn't respond.

"My brother is gone. Taken away in the night," Leon continues. He lets out a hoarse, humorless laugh. "After I promised to keep him safe. What a shoddy excuse for an elder brother I am."

When he begins to fall to the side, he feels a hand catch his arm to keep him upright. And before he blacks out he registers an arm under his knees, an arm around his back, his body leaving the ground and a steady heartbeat against his cheek.

Then the world goes dark and quiet.

—

Leon snaps awake in his cabin, his body cold, his blood like ice. When he sits up, he has to immediately lie back down, too dizzy to keep himself upright. From his peripheral he can make out Sonia, and Milo, and the doctor.

"Ah, he's awake," Milo says softly. They all turn to him, and Sonia is at his side, reaching out to push his hair out of his face. So gentle, so soft. Something left over from the time before she began her life of piracy. Leon doesn’t really remember blacking out, but he remembers being curled in on himself in an alley, mourning his brother, struggling to accept that he was stolen away and that they _need to find him immediately._

And he remembers bright blue eyes, familiar arms lifting him with a surprising amount of gentleness, steady breaths and a steady heartbeat. Or maybe he just imagined that?

“How did I get here?” Leon mumbles. It’s been a long time since he’s broken down like that, since he’s blacked out from his panic. It’s been a long time since he’s been so weak. How many people saw him, he wonders? Many would have seen him running through the streets, but who saw him as he crumbled into a heap and felt like he was going insane?

Sonia and Milo share a glance before they look back at him.

“The Wyrmwind’s captain brought you back,” Sonia says. Ah, so Leon wasn’t hallucinating that. But doesn’t Raihan hate him? Why wouldn’t he just leave Leon there, let him lie alone, unconscious? It doesn’t make much sense to Leon, but his head hurts too much for him to think too hard about it.

“Did he say anything?” Leon asks.

“Just that he found you at the edge of town.” Sonia worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “He asked who took Hop. I told him that we don’t know.”

Leon blinks slowly. Raihan… asked? About Hop? Right, he remembers telling Raihan that someone had taken him away, but why would Raihan be concerned further about it? What an odd man, his feelings and actions constantly contradicting each other. He sits up slower this time, eyebrows furrowing.

He needs to get himself together. Sitting and thinking too hard about why this happened, blaming himself, breaking down won’t get Hop back. He needs to be strong for him. They need to find a way to find him, to figure out who took him, and where they went. All Leon can tell is they must have left Glimwood by now, the search party Sonia sent out has returned already entirely empty-handed.

Taking a deep breath, he swings his legs over the bed and stands. Both of his hands come up to fix the buttons of his shirt, and he pushes past his officers and the doctor to find his boots, pulling them on. His hat is placed on, his arms slip into the sleeves of his coat. He says nothing, and before he exits the cabin he stands up straighter, hardens his expression, steels himself.

They can’t leave Glimwood yet until they know where they’re supposed to be going. Leon makes his way back to the officer’s quarters, back to Hop’s cabin where the disaster remains untouched. He walks over to the desk, picking it up and setting it upright, then gathers the ink-stained papers, the quill, and the bottle of ink to put away. The broken lantern is picked up, he’s careful not to cut himself on the glass, then placed on the desk.

Leon steps over the dagger, the drops of blood, to the hammock on the floor. He quietly hangs it back up, then lifts that lamb doll in both hands. He stares at it, at the once-white fabric and wool worn and brown from age, at those black button eyes that look ready to pop out at any moment. Hop loves this little thing, it brings him comfort. Leon will keep it safe for that reason. He gently places it in the hammock, then turns around to finally, finally examine the blood and dagger.

He kneels down, reaching out to touch the hilt of the blood-stained dagger. Then he picks it up, weighs it in his hand, trails his gaze along the sharpened blade. It looks like it must have been pushed in deep with the amount of blood on it. Leon can’t help his weak smile. At least Hop fought back.

His thumb rubs at the dried blood. It comes off in flakes on his skin.

Leon pulls his cloth from his pocket and carefully scrubs away the blood from the blade, then tucks it into his coat. He rises up again, spine straight. Allowing himself one more look at the room which he did his best to tidy, he prays once more that his little brother is safe, that his little brother is relatively unharmed. That his little brother is alive.

And when Leon finds whoever did this, hell hath no fury like a brother protecting his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have nothing to say for myself other than buckle up... now let's see what raihan has 2 say next chapter..................
> 
> i was worried i wouldn't get this chapter out on time because i've been so absorbed in animal crossing but uh... surprise! it's a day early
> 
> so there's been a good bit of fanart made for this fanart since last chapter and god i am just SO flattered so here:
> 
> art by kujo/@comburo on twitter for the tavern scene in chapter 4: [here](https://twitter.com/Comburos/status/1240881130288676864)  
> art by joseph/@tinypalettes on twitter+ig for the tavern scene in chapter 4: [here](https://twitter.com/tinypalettes/status/1241508987243290626) (twit link) / [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/B-A8booFsX5/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet) (ig link)  
> art by @ums_as on twitter for the ship battle in chapter 3 and the cabin scene in chapter 2 (nsfw warning for titties): [here](https://twitter.com/ums_as/status/1241055898241564672)  
> art by @skyfangz on twitter+ig of leon being Beautiful: [here](https://twitter.com/SkyFangz/status/1241987626447466496) (twit link) / [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/B-IVHAzAWXL/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet) (ig link)
> 
> i've already gushed about these so much on twitter but GOD!!! THANK YOU AGAIN
> 
> also! i made a spotify playlist for this fic! i listen to it for inspiration and also while i write these chapters. it's [here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3suaNP8Yqh4v9Q28Z3C7xn?si=V-_Gk8KjR8qMuU6qWqGecQ)
> 
> and thank you to everyone else who continues reading and supporting my fic it means so much ;_;
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It reminds him that Leon is a man like any other, human to his core just like Raihan. He doesn't want to think of Leon that way. It makes hating him a lot harder. It makes Raihan feel a lot _weaker._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> want to get inside of your mind, i'll make you [let me in](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcC3oU6RagI).
> 
> ( trigger warning for mentions of child abuse. )

When Raihan finds Leon, he can't believe what he sees.

A man who usually carries himself so confidently; a man with a presence that commands respect; a man who could bring anyone to their knees, now slumped between two buildings, trembling, skin paled, eyes wide, tears streaking down his cheeks. Each breath he takes sounds weak and shallow. What happened to him?

Raihan had slept for two hours, maybe, before snapping awake with an odd sense of unease. He dragged himself out of the bed, dressed himself, went downstairs to return the room key to the innkeeper who gave him a curious look but said nothing.

When he left the building, he saw a flash of purple bolt past him. Leon didn't even seem to notice him, not stopping even once as he ran as fast as his legs could take him, breathlessly and desperately calling out a name unfamiliar to Raihan.

_Hop! Hop! Hop!_

And, for reasons Raihan still doesn't entirely understand, he followed him.

Now he stands there before Leon, his shadow cast over him, and Leon is looking up at him blearily. He's never seen this kind of expression on Leon's face, never seen him looking so… weak. So unlike everything he's seen from him before and it…

… makes him angry? Not that he shows it, but there is a flash of anger that burns in his chest. Anger that the famed _Champion of the Seas_ could be reduced to something like this. Anger that he'd _let_ himself be reduced to something like this because it just reminds Raihan that Leon isn't just an unknowable, untouchable legend, a powerful enigma. It reminds him that Leon is a man like any other, human to his core just like Raihan. He doesn't want to think of Leon that way. It makes hating him a lot harder. It makes Raihan feel a lot _weaker._

To think just hours before Leon was grinning, laughing, panting above him, and now he’s like… this.

Raihan wants to ask why, but something keeps his mouth sealed shut. When Leon speaks, there is a tremble in his voice, “I told you to sleep.” _I don’t have to listen to you._ “How did you… find… me?”

He sounds genuinely confused, his brows pressed together. Raihan still can’t bring himself to speak, but he does kneel down to proper eye level, holding back a grimace when the movement puts slight strain on his injuries. Leon’s gaze follows him, dull and distant.

“My brother is gone. Taken away in the night.” The laugh that follows is hoarse, hollow, broken. Raihan knows of Leon’s brother, most do—inseparable, they say. Leon would do anything for his brother, anything to protect his brother, loves him more than anything, and most regard it as a weakness, most think it makes Leon too soft.

But is loving truly a weakness?

“After I promised to keep him safe. What a shoddy excuse for an elder brother I am,” Leon continues, his voice getting weaker with each syllable. Raihan can’t think of anything to say, his mind is still trying to make sense of any of this, any of what he’s seeing. Leon so vulnerable, Leon blaming _himself_ for something that was most likely well out of his control.

When the other begins to tip to the side, his eyelids heavy, Raihan reaches out faster than he can think to grab his arm and pull him back up. He stares down at where he’s touching Leon, blinking slowly, then looks back up at Leon, who isn’t really looking at him now. No, he looks distant, dazed; his tears have stopped, but there are still red marks on his cheeks. His eyes are bloodshot.

The dark part of Raihan considers just leaving him there, broken and alone in the cold, for someone else to find him. But he can’t bring himself to, because even if he hates him— why would he ever abandon someone so desperately in need?

He swallows his pride and leans forward. The hand on Leon’s arm lets go, then moves around to rest on his back before he winds that arm around him, the other arm slipping beneath Leon’s knees. When he lifts Leon off of the ground, the man doesn’t even react. He’s nearly limp in Raihan’s arms, barely conscious, but he still feels so light and fits so easily against him.

Raihan doesn’t think about that.

Carefully he adjusts him in his arms, even going so far as to make sure Leon’s hat doesn’t fall off when his head leans against his chest. Now he’s sure that Leon is entirely unconscious, his breathing slow and his body sagging. Raihan stares down at him one more time, brows twitching, but he tears his gaze away before he gets too caught up in looking at him, trying to figure him out.

All he has to do is carry Leon back to his ship, they’re bound to be looking for him, and anyone he passes will know better than to question it.

That doesn't guarantee that they won't _talk._

Raihan sighs, then begins his walk down the dirt street with Leon in his arms. He tries not to think of how warm he is, how even with dirt and sweat on his skin he still smells like flowers, how despite the tear tracks he manages to look so pretty. It's a shame his personality is so damn infuriating. It's a shame that his mere existence makes Raihan feel like everything he's worked towards has been all for naught.

Leon lets out a soft sigh from slightly parted lips but otherwise doesn't stir. Raihan keeps his eyes ahead, making his way to the ship with long strides but is careful not to move too quickly so he doesn't jostle the man in his arms.

It's going to be awkward to face Leon's crew like this. Hopefully they don't prod.

When he steps onto the ship, he has to take a moment to survey his surroundings. He’s never actually… been on the Champion Time before. Observed it from afar, sure, but he’s never set foot upon it. Leon would always come to his ship, or they would meet at an inn. Raihan never _expected_ to end up here—especially with how well-guarded it is at night.

That young woman with red hair and a short but stocky man with freckles are upon him immediately, followed by a large red dog. They're more focused on their unconscious captain, but the moment the woman looks up at Raihan her eyes widen, confusion flashing in them.

"You—" She begins, but quickly stops herself. The man beside her gives a gentle smile and holds his arms out, and Raihan passes Leon over to him. He ignores how he suddenly feels a lot colder. The woman looks down, then back up. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." _No, seriously, don't mention it._

"Where did you find him?" She asks.

"The edge of town. He must have gotten lost."

"As he's wont to do," she murmurs. "Thank you, again, we were all worried."

Raihan hums with a nod. He takes a step back, pivots on his heel, prepared to descend back onto the docks—but something stops him. Slowly, he turns back to them. "He said his brother is missing. Do you know who took him?"

"No, we don't. We're going to be… investigating. But Leon is… furious. Distraught, I—"

"That's all I needed to know," he cuts in with a tight smile. "Get him a bed, will you? Before he freezes to death."

So she and the other man at her side share a glance before nodding silently. They slowly turn away from him, and he turns his back to them as well.

But he does glance over his shoulder once to see them making their way below deck, to see the still-unconscious Leon with his head rolled back, his hat caught by the woman before it could fall.

Raihan grinds his teeth and returns to the dock. He closes his eyes, breathes in deep, then makes his way back to his ship.

He can't believe what he's about to do.

—

“Where’ve you been?” Nessa immediately says the moment she sees Raihan return. “You look exhausted. How late were you up?”

“All night,” he replies with a weak smile. What he was up to during the night is none of her business, but she can probably infer what he was doing just fine. But she doesn’t need to know the other details. That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is… “Also, we aren’t leaving today.”

Nessa’s brows knit together. “Why?”

Raihan dodges the question. “When did you get back to the ship last night?”

Thankfully, Nessa doesn’t prod. For now. “I—” She pauses, scratching at her jaw, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “Late.”

“When you got back, did you see anything suspicious?”

There is a beat of silence, before Nessa breaks out into a laugh. “Raihan, _everything_ here is suspicious! You’ll have to be more specific.” She leans against the railing of the ship, staring up at him with her brows raised and a grin pulling at her lips. Raihan knows he can’t hide what he’s thinking from her for too long.

With warm cheeks, he turns his eyes downward. Nostrils flare as he exhales heavily; he rubs his thumb over a button on his shirt.

“Leon Khanna’s brother is missing,” he finally says. When he looks up, Nessa looks a tad wide-eyed, her lips parted. Something flickers in her eyes, but he doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t ask.

“And you know this, how…?”

“Because he told me,” Raihan says, voice flat.

“You spoke to him?” She sounds… shocked. Of course she would, she doesn’t know about any of his meetings with Leon and what they involve. She doesn’t know Leon has snuck onto their ship before. She doesn’t know that Raihan has learned how to pull Leon apart and put him right back together. It’s for the best she doesn’t know.

“I found him barely conscious at the edge of town and brought him back to his ship.”

Nessa rolls her shoulders, thoughtful, her head tilting to one side. "So why is this any of our concern?"

Raihan expected that question. It really _isn't_ any of their concern, but he can't help but think about how scared that young boy must be, how a child shouldn't have been hurt like that; he can't help but think about how Leon looked, curled up in an alley, exhausted and distraught, so unlike himself. Maybe some other time he would have enjoyed seeing that expression on Leon's face but, God, not like this. Never like this.

"I can't just ignore someone in need," Raihan finally says.

"You don't think he can handle it on his own?"

"That's not—" Raihan clenches his hands into tight fists and grinds his teeth. "That isn't what I'm saying. I just— can you just tell me if you saw anything strange? Heard anything?"

Nessa frowns, then begins toying with her lip ring with her tongue as she thinks. Her gaze pulls away from him, instead looking around him to where the Champion Time is docked not too far away from the Wyrmwind. Finally, she draws back and looks up at him again.

"There was a new ship when I got back. Smaller than ours. And I— I thought I heard shouting last night, on the docks," she finally says. "Not long after I came back. I was too tired to investigate—figured it was none of my business."

That's a start. "Do you remember what they were saying?"

"I'm not sure. Something about getting their boat back at sea as soon as possible—something about things not going as smoothly as expected. I fell asleep not long after. That's all I know."

Raihan works his jaw. So whoever it was probably wasn’t even that quiet about it. But he figures they _wanted_ to be found, he’s smart enough to know many would jump at the chance to get Leon in their grasp by any means necessary. He was either someone to look up to, someone to respect, or an obstacle to overcome—an obstacle to destroy. Raihan isn’t sure which one of those options he agrees with more.

Regardless, he would never bring a child into it.

“Thank you,” he just says with a sigh, a weak little smile. Raihan ducks his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "Just watch the ship, Nessa. I'm going back into town."

"Don't do anything stupid," she says, eyes flashing with concern. “Use that head of yours. You’re smart. Make sure you know what you’re getting into.”

All he can do is nod, patting her on the shoulder. Then he steps back, swiftly turns around, and leaves his ship once more.

—

He tries merchants on the street first, the men and women who set their wares up just before the sun rises. Most of them just shrug, or apologize, even with the offer of coin in return for information. They say they don’t know anything, didn’t hear anything or see anything, and that they weren’t really looking in the first place. Glimwood had enough suspicious behavior, and was occupied by a myriad of shady individuals, so why would they be on the lookout for what they would have considered normal?

Raihan looks over his shoulder, down the slope leading to the docks. He sees movement on the Champion Time, thinks he can spy the flash of a red coat and violet hair. Leon must have woken up, and is already at work. It’s admirable, Raihan has to admit. The stories must be true, that he’d do anything for his brother. That he’s driven by his love for his brother.

When Raihan’s mother died, he forgot what it was like to feel loved by someone considered family. When he found his father after days of searching, eight-years-old and terrified, the image of his mother’s brains blown out right in front of him still stuck in his mind, the man almost refused to take him in. Said it was too early, he was meant to join when he was older, and it wasn’t until Raihan had tearfully told him of his mother’s demise that he was allowed onto the ship.

His father was far from loving. The thought of him makes Raihan drag his tongue over his golden fang. A memory of being thirteen, of yelling, of the smell of alcohol, a fist in his face knocking his tooth out as Raihan collapsed into a heap and the world around him went dark. The memory of black eyes, split lips, and bruises on his arms and ribs.

It wasn’t until he met Nessa that he remembered what family really was.

Raihan lets out a low sigh. It’s a lot to think about. For now, he should focus on his main goal: figuring out who took this boy, giving the information to Leon and his crew, and leaving.

He makes his way to the tavern next. If anyone is bound to have information, it will be someone there. Get enough alcohol in a man and he won’t know how to keep his mouth shut. The barkeeps always seem to know something, too. They’re told plenty of things meant to be kept secret.

He steps inside. With how early it is, there aren’t many men or women inside just yet, so it’s much quieter. No one spares him a second glance, most seem to know well enough not to. He assumes it’s just the aura he’s giving off currently, or maybe he has some frightening expression on his face. Raihan makes a bee-line towards the bar, where a young girl is organizing shelves of old, mostly half-empty bottles, and cleaning out mugs and glasses.

Raihan remembers seeing her months before, asking her what news she’s heard. Unfortunately, he can’t remember her name, but she’s a tiny little thing, though most people tend to be tiny in comparison to Raihan. No older than fourteen, he thinks. But she’s curt, rough, her brown eyes are sharp and her scowl is intimidating. He always makes a mental note not to get on her bad side, out of some tiny fear she’ll slip something into his drink one day, or break his arm, or something.

Quietly, he sits at the bar and waits for her to turn around and notice him. He’s digging out a few coins to pass to her, something that might get her to talk more than she usually does. If anyone had run their mouth to her, he’s sure they might’ve paid her to keep her own shut. Raihan leans forward on his elbows, letting out a low sigh.

She turns around and catches sight of him, but there is hardly a change in her expression. Raihan raises both brows and offers a smile that isn’t returned. She looks him over, mouth twitching.

“You’re not here for a drink,” she says—a statement, not a question.

“I’m not,” Raihan affirms, then opens his hand to let a few gold coins hit the wooden counter. “I have some questions.”

“Wha’ever it is,” she begins, “I didn’t do it.”

That makes him laugh a bit, and under any circumstances he might have laughed even louder. He bounces the heel of his boot against the old wooden floorboards, the only real sign of the nerves that are beginning to grip him. Why is he so nervous? He has no reason to be, right?

“No, I don’t think you did it. But you might know who did.” He leans in closer, pushing the coins closer. She eyes them warily, but reaches over and takes them anyway, shoving them into a pocket of her stained apron. “Someone went missing last night.”

“People go missin’ a lot.” But he can see that flash of something in her eyes. Fear?

“From someone’s ship,” he explains further. “Captain Khanna’s ship. His little brother. Have you heard anything about it?”

The woman takes in a deep breath, looking uncharacteristically nervous. She begins to wipe at a glass with a rag, but she’s not looking at it or Raihan as she thinks.

“I can’t tell ya,” she finally says. “They told me they’d kill me an’ my brother if I said anythin’.”

“Captain Khanna will do much worse if he finds out you’re hiding the identities of the people who took his brother,” Raihan says coolly, nails tapping against the wood, his eyes narrowing dangerously. She still won’t look at him, her eyes hidden by a curtain of short brown hair. “You tell me, I’ll make sure you’re protected.”

She still looks uncertain, then looks side-to-side before she wanders closer to the counter and leans her head in close. God, she really is young, he can see it now with her expression much softer than it usually is. Raihan folds his arms on the wooden surface.

“I don’t know where they’re takin’ him,” she says, almost apologetically. “It’s somewhere up north, I think. One’a them came by an’ saw me an’ thought I’d be the best person to tell everythin’ to. Stupid. Then he threatened me. Never told me the name of their ship, but I coulda swore he looked like part o’ the Navy an’ doin’ a bad job at blending in here.”

Part of the Navy? Raihan’s mouth turns downward. Did the crown really turn to petty tactics like this to get to their enemies, then?

“The Navy? What do you m—”

“You’re not gonna find ‘em!” Another voice breaks in, a raggedy man toddling over and plopping down in the seat right next to Raihan. “Why’s it matter, anyway? Who cares about the Champion’s brother? Leave it to him!”

Raihan glares at him out of his peripheral. “I didn’t ask you. Unless you know something.”

“I know who did it,” the stranger boasts. Raihan and the girl share a glance, then Raihan turns his head completely to him.

“Who?”

“I’m not telling,” he says. “Not unless you pay me. But I saw the Champion earlier, runnin’ through the streets all desperate, like a wreck. What a story it’s gonna make. We all knew his brother made him weak—”

“Shut up,” Raihan snaps, his tone surprisingly defensive even to his own ears. “Just tell me what you know. Now.”

“Show me the gold first,” he says. “Really, why’re you so worried? Why’s it concern you? You in love wi—”

Raihan snaps.

He grabs the man by the hair and slams his face into the counter. Among the sound of wood cracking, there is a sickening crunch of cartilage breaking, and when he pulls the man’s head back his nose is gushing blood.

“Okay,” Raihan snarls, then stands up, still holding him by the hair. “Then maybe you’ll talk if you see him yourself.”

The man lets out a low groan of pain, his hands coming up to cover his broken nose. He doesn’t respond past the blood in his mouth, spitting it out along with a few teeth. Raihan tosses him over his shoulder as easily as he would a ragdoll. The girl is looking up at him, blinking slowly, and he meets her gaze again.

“Get your brother,” he says. “Both of you, come with me.”

“But—”

“I said I’d make sure you’re protected. Hurry.”

She looks hesitant, looking around a few more times before finally nodding. “My brother, Victor, he’s at the blacksmith next door.”

“Then let’s go,” Raihan says, adjusting the man over his shoulder.

So she moves out from behind the counter and scurries close behind, three steps for each one he takes. When they step outside, he looks behind him. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“I’m Gloria.”

—

“Here,” Raihan says, shrugging the barely-conscious man off of his shoulder and holding him out by the back of his shirt. Leon and his officers stare at him in silent shock, clearly not sure why he’s brought this man here, why he’s even back here at all. “He knows where your brother is.”

The man just groans again. Behind Raihan, Gloria and Victor peek out curiously.

“He doesn’t look like he’s in any state to speak,” Leon says. Raihan takes notice of how Leon is pointedly not looking him in the eye, which is… odd. Maybe he remembers earlier a lot clearer than expected. “Was it necessary to do all of… that?”

“I had to make a point,” Raihan replies, tone clipped. He drops the man to the deck, and he weakly pushes himself up on his palms. “Also,” he reaches behind him and presses his hand to Gloria’s back, pushing her forward. “They spoke to her, too, but she’s willing to talk now that she knows she and her brother won’t die if she does.”

Leon stares at the girl, then at the man crumpled at his feet. Raihan thinks for a moment that he might turn them away, but he’s sure he wouldn’t turn down any chance to find his brother, would he? Leon always surprises him, but he thinks he’s read him well enough this time.

The Champion draws his sword and Raihan wonders if Leon is just going to kill the man without questioning him at all. The tip touches the man’s chin and Leon’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing into thin, dangerous slits. “Stand up.”

The man stays still. Leon, in a flash of frustration, slams the heel of his boot down onto his hand. He yelps, but quickly scrambles up to his feet, his balance wobbly. Raihan watches in silence, his brows raised. It’s not like he hasn’t seen this sort of expression on Leon’s face before, but never so up close. Never like this.

Heat trickles down his spine. He wills it away. _Not now._

Leon, with his free hand, points to Gloria and Raihan. “You two, follow me.”

Raihan almost snaps at Leon that he has no place to tell him what to do, but he keeps his mouth tightly shut. He _is_ on Leon's ship, after all.

Gloria stands up straight, putting on that hard expression she always had in the tavern, and nods. She shares a glance with her brother before she follows Leon and Raihan below deck, and Raihan can see the slight tremble in her hands even if she tries to appear brave.

As it turns out, when faced with the Champion of the Seas himself, especially faced with the _threat_ of being tortured by him for information, people tend to talk. Past swollen gums and bloody lips the man spills everything that he overheard while Gloria fills in the gaps. Leon hardly has to touch him, hardly has to say a word.

Whoever it was that took Leon's brother _is_ heading north. It's a small crew that poses often as a Navy vessel to move safely through trade routes, with a hideout on a small, unnamed island a few day's journey away. They're likely looking to reap in great rewards if they get Leon into their grasp after luring him in with his brother.

Leon places a map in the man’s lap to mark the location of the island, and once he’s finished Leon barks out a, “That’s all. Now get off of my ship.”

The man scrambles to his feet and rushes past Raihan, nearly tripping over his own feet as he goes. Once he’s out of sight, Leon looks down at the map in his hands, his brows furrowing. His lips turn downward. Then he sighs and mumbles something to himself, rolling the parchment up and pocketing it for the time being.

He looks at Gloria, then up at Raihan. Their eyes meet briefly before Leon looks away. Silence, drawn out so long it gets a bit uncomfortable. Raihan takes a step back then, prepared to turn and leave if Leon has nothing else to say, but suddenly Leon’s hand shoots out and grabs the front of Raihan’s coat.

“I need you to stay, Ra—Captain Kinsley. You need to help me.”

 _What?_ Raihan stares down at the man, who is still not looking at him. That hand still has a tight grip on Raihan’s coat, and Raihan is tempted to grab his wrist and yank it away. His nostrils flare a bit in irritation. Hasn’t he helped enough? Carried an unconscious Leon back to his ship, found the people with information about the whereabouts of his brother. What _else_ could he _possibly_ need?

“I have my own crew to worry about,” Raihan replies, his tone a little bitter. “He’s your brother, not mine. I’ve done enough.”

Leon doesn’t let go. His grip just tightens. He doesn’t even speak, his eyes cast downward. Raihan grinds his teeth in irritation. What, does Leon think he’s more to Raihan than just a thorn in his side and an occasional good fuck?

_Isn’t he? Why else would you have helped him at all?_

“I’m one man down right now,” Leon finally says. “You’ll be back to your crew before you know it.”

Raihan’s eyes narrow. There must be something else to this. Why would Leon ask for his further assistance, despite knowing how Raihan feels about him? Doesn’t he think it will be dangerous? Raihan could do anything if he stayed, could put an end to the Champion if he so pleased when his guard is down.

Beside him, he notices Gloria begin to move. She steps forward, her head held high. “He’ll do it.”

“What?” Why is she trying to speak for him? “No, I—”

Gloria gives him a scathing look, one that silences him too easily. Why is he being bossed around by a fourteen-year-old? “He’ll do it, jus’ pay him after. Me n’ my brother will help, too. If you’ll have us.”

Leon looks between them, brows twitching. Finally, he lets go of Raihan’s coat, allowing Raihan to step back.

“Welcome aboard,” he sighs. Leon lifts his hat off of his head and runs a hand through his hair in a brief show of anxiety. Raihan isn’t sure how to feel about the fact Leon is comfortable showing that in front of him. “I suggest you make preparations, then, before we depart. Don’t want to leave anything important behind.” Golden eyes flicker back to Raihan. “You, too.”

Does Raihan really have no choice in the matter?

He quietly curses whatever god there is.

—

While Gloria and Victor rush off to gather their things before departure, Raihan has to return to his ship to explain the… situation to Nessa, who stares at him incredulously the whole while. Her arms fold over her chest, and there is a worried expression on her face.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Nessa asks.

“Do I?” Raihan responds, a little pained.

“You should go,” Nessa says, which is the last thing Raihan wants to hear. “We’ll stay here, I’ll keep everything in order.”

“But—”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this, Raihan, so what makes this time any different?” Nessa huffs. “Swallow your pride. You may hate him, but you never turn down someone in need.”

She’s right. He _has_ gone out of his way for days at a time to help someone, leaving his crew and the ship in Nessa’s hands. It shouldn’t be any different this time. Afterwards, he and Leon can go back to their usual routine—or maybe something will change and Raihan won’t ever have to see him again. He exhales heavily through his nose.

“Fine,” he says. “Make sure Ludo doesn’t get too lonely.”

“Only if you promise me you won’t die. Twenty is still too young.”

“Twenty is old enough for people like us. But if I die,” Raihan says, placing a hand over his chest. “You can dredge my body up from the ocean and kill me all over again.”

Nessa just lets out a light laugh and begins pushing him across the deck so he can get his things. Raihan digs his heels in and sags backwards, putting all his weight back against her just to give her a hard time.

“Raihan, move! You’re too massive!” She complains. “You have somewhere to be!”

Finally, he surges forward with a laugh while she chases him all the way to his cabin to collect a few of his things.

—

It feels too strange, leaving Glimwood on a ship that isn’t his own. Most of Leon’s crew is very obviously trying not to look at him, like they’re scared of him, or something. Or they just don’t want to make it any more odd than it already is. Raihan remains silent the entire time, gaze trained on red and golden sails as the ship departs. He sits on the steps leading up to the quarterdeck, hands clasped between his knees. It’s dusk already, a few stars coming into view and the half-full moon slowly taking the place of the sun.

He doesn’t look at Leon, who stands firm, painted in the gold and orange of the setting sun. It reflects in his eyes, his proud, determined eyes. It accentuates the strong angle of his jaw and nose. Raihan thinks if he looks directly at him, he’ll be blinded.

Nearby, Gloria and Victor are huddled together, talking in low tones with one another. Victor hasn’t said a word to anyone but his sister since they arrived, Raihan assumes he’s just more of the silent type while Gloria prefers taking charge. They’re good siblings, he thinks. They must not have parents if they were so willing to abandon Glimwood and come along. It makes something ache inside of him, a similar feeling he gets when he looks at Nessa, a protective feeling—right, he wants to protect them, doesn’t he?

He stays there for a while, watching the skies, eyes flickering off to the side every so often to see the dim lights of Glimwood disappear over the horizon and, along with them, the shadow of his ship.

What is he _doing_?

It’s too late to turn back, he knows, which just frustrates him further. But he won’t back away now.

He just hopes Leon won’t hold this over his head forever.

He hopes that, when this is all over, it’s never brought up again.

Raihan reaches down to the raggedy bag at his feet and drags it into his lap. The longer he sits here, watching the violet sky and listening to Leon’s crew move about and talk to each other before they, along with Leon, begin to retire for the night, the more he doesn’t feel entirely real. None of this feels entirely real.

His stomach rumbles. He should eat something, but he doesn’t really want to move. Raihan rubs his palm into one eye, letting out a heavy sigh. Out on the ocean, he should feel entirely in his element—but right here, right now, he feels too painfully out of place.

As if on cue, someone appears in front of him. Raihan looks up to meet clear blue eyes that look down at him expectantly. It’s the woman from before—Sonia, if he heard other crew members correctly. She’s holding a wooden bowl in her hands with some lukewarm, thick broth in it. When Raihan glances down, he studies her hands for a moment. They look dainty, soft, even with skin picked around the nails and a few scars on her knuckles. It makes him wonder what sort of life she lived before all of this.

“You haven’t eaten, right?” Sonia asks, holding the bowl out to him. “I guessed you wouldn’t want to eat with everyone else, so I thought I could bring something to you.”

Raihan’s jaw drops because he’s… admittedly a little shocked. He expected to spend most of this voyage mostly ignored so long as he ignored everyone else, he didn’t think anyone would go out of their way to make him feel… welcome. It takes him a few moments before he realizes he hasn’t responded.

“Er, right,” he says awkwardly, reaching out to take hold of the bowl that looks too small in his large hands. The liquid might have cooled down by now, but compared to the winter sea air, it’s practically _scalding._ “Thank you.”

Sonia smiles at him, taking a step back. “The trip will be more bearable if you talk to people.”

“I’d— rather not,” he grumbles as he brings the bowl to his lips, directing his gaze to the side. “I think it’s better I didn’t.”

“Sitting and sulking alone isn’t very good for you.” Without even asking, she wiggles in to sit next to him on the steps. She stretches her legs out and taps her knees with slim fingers. “Leon does that enough; but I guess it’s true when everyone says the great Captain Kinsley has a tendency to be _broody_ —”

“I’m not broody!” Raihan protests, maybe a little whinier than he means to be.

“He says, as he broods.” Sonia lets out a little laugh. “I promise, you’ll feel much better if you open up here. Maybe also work out whatever issue you have with our captain. He’s a little clueless, sometimes, his head’s always in the clouds…” She sighs. “But he’s as good of a man as one of us could be. Don’t hate him too much.”

Raihan doesn’t know how to respond. He just stares down at the broth in his bowl, squinting. He’d rather not think about Leon apparently being a good man—not that he doesn’t believe it, he just doesn’t _want_ to believe it.

Sonia lightly pats his knee. “He might not say it, but he’s grateful that you’re helping.”

“Not entirely by choice,” Raihan mumbles, swallowing a mouthful of broth.

“Mmhm,” she hums. “Also, he wants to talk to you when you’re done. He wanted me to tell you that.”

“Couldn’t come to me himself?”

The woman huffs softly. “Don’t be a stubborn arse. Just finish up and find him below deck. He’ll be alone, don’t worry.”

Raihan eyes her, then nods slowly. He empties the rest of the contents of the bowl and Sonia takes it from him wordlessly, rising to her feet. She looks back down at him, gives him a smile, then walks away, light on her feet. Raihan thinks he can see why Nessa seems to be so interested in her—she’s kind, which is often hard to come by. He’ll let himself be a little bitter over the _brooding_ comment, however.

Right. Anyway. Leon wants to talk to him, for whatever reason. Raihan wipes his mouth off with his sleeve and stands up slowly, holding his bag in one hand as he walks across the steadily emptying deck and makes his way below. There is an ache in his legs again, reminding him that he needs to change his bandages and check the state of his injuries. They itch a bit, which tells him they’re most likely healing, albeit slowly.

He can hear most of the crew retiring at the opposite end of the ship, where he assumes their shared quarters are. He figures he’ll be spending his nights there as well. It’s dark under here save for the dim light of the moon filtering in through the cracks of the wood above. Raihan shifts awkwardly, squinting in the dark, realizing he really doesn’t know what he’s doing because he’s never been on this ship until today. Where is he meant to go?

A presence behind him makes him stiffen up. A golden glow breaks through the darkness, illuminating crates and heavy sacks around them, all surprisingly neatly organized. The wood creaks above him and under him and he’s almost too scared to move, but he does so anyway, turning slowly so he can look down at the man who had appeared behind him.

Leon looks up at him, holding a lantern in one hand. His hair is damp and pulled into a thick braid, and he looks far too underdressed with how cold it is. If it were anyone else, Raihan may have taken his coat off and offered it, but he doesn’t this time. Leon fixes the collar of his shirt.

“Sonia told you?”

“She did.”

“Good,” Leon sighs. “Come on.” Then he turns around swiftly, making his way above once more. Raihan blinks, but follows after him regardless. Once they return to the deck, only the moon and Leon’s lantern are their source of light now. The stars reflect in the dark waters around them, glittering and winking. The moonlight cuts across the deck and the cold breeze makes the sails flutter.

When Raihan looks at Leon again, he sees he’s not even wearing shoes. Brows furrow, a frown pulling at his lips.

“Are you trying to catch your death?” Raihan asks, coming up beside him at the rails but still keeping a good amount of distance between them. “You’ll freeze your toes off like this.”

“Huh? Oh.” Leon looks down at his bare feet. “I guess so. Sorry, I can’t really… feel it right now. Or feel anything.”

Raihan eyes him, then snorts. “Sure. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Not… much. I just wanted to say thank you,” Leon replies, his voice soft among the sound of the waves. The cool breeze lifts a few stray strands of purple hair, which Leon pushes back with his free hand. “You made this a lot easier. Finding my brother. You don’t know how much it means… to me.”

“I didn’t take you to be so sentimental,” Raihan replies, his voice dry.

Leon shrugs one shoulder. “Just when it comes to him. I’m glad you came along, too.”

“Are you? Well, I didn’t want to.”

“I know. But you still did. That’s what matters.” Leon rubs his hand over his shirt, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. Raihan tracks the movement, then turns his eyes back to Leon’s face.

Finally he breaks the momentary silence again, “Is that all you wanted to say?”

“I… yes,” Leon mumbles. “You should sleep now. You barely slept last night. Good night.”

He turns and quietly walks away in the direction that Raihan assumes is his cabin. Raihan watches him, and the sudden urge to _follow him_ rears its head. An urge he should ignore, because if he gives in nothing good will come out of it. Just more frustration and confusion. But watching Leon leave, taking the warm light of the lantern with him, makes it harder to ignore that urge.

So he gives in. Raihan catches up with Leon easily with his long stride, ducking his head low as they move beneath the deck. If Leon notices him he doesn’t say anything, just keeps his focus on getting to his cabin which is undoubtedly a lot warmer than it is up above. The door is opened with Leon’s free hand and he steps inside with a heavy sigh, lowering the lantern.

Before the door can shut, Raihan catches it. He hunches over, a looming shadow in the doorway. Leon turns around, wide-eyed, to stare up at him.

“Raihan—?” It still feels so strange to hear Leon say his name, especially so _softly._ Full of confusion, full of concern. Why is he concerned?

“Leon,” Raihan breathes. “You said you couldn’t feel anything right now.” He pushes the door all the way open again but doesn’t move from where he stands. “Let me help you feel something.”

He watches Leon’s throat as the man swallows. He still doesn’t move, waiting for explicit permission to enter. From within the cabin he can smell the overwhelming scent of flowers, almost dizzying, the same scent he breathes in whenever he presses his face close to Leon’s neck.

Leon takes a few steps away to place the lantern down on his desk, then looks back at Raihan. “Come here,” he says, quiet.

So Raihan does. He steps inside, the door shutting loudly behind him. Raihan drops his bag and walks across the cabin to where Leon waits, his eyes sharp. When he’s close, close enough to feel Leon’s body heat, the man slowly reaches both hands up and Raihan ducks his head down to let Leon take hold of his face. His hands are a little chilly.

Their lips meet without the desperation and fervor usually present in their previous trysts. Raihan grips Leon’s waist, squeezing him through the thin fabric of his blouse, making him arch into his touch. He can feel Leon getting warmer the longer he kisses him. Their tongues meet, rolling together, and Leon breathes out a little sigh into the kiss that makes Raihan yank him closer. Both of his hands then slowly travel upward to tug Leon's braid loose, to comb his fingers through the freshly washed locks, silky against his skin.

Honestly, Raihan doesn’t know what possessed him to do this. He doesn’t know if it’s his own way of comfort, but that begs the question of _why_ he’d ever want to comfort Leon. Maybe it’s just for himself, maybe if he fucks Leon he can work out his own complicated feelings regarding everything about this situation he’s found himself in.

So he does fuck Leon, hovering over him, taking care not to mark his neck with more bruises to accompany the ones from the night before, while Leon presses his face into the pillow and pants out his name, curls his hands into the sheets, sweat beading up on his forehead. They finish with a shared groan which Raihan muffles into Leon’s mouth, forcing him to turn his head enough that he can kiss him at all in this position.

Afterwards, Leon lies there on his belly with the thin blanket pulled up to his shoulders, hugging his pillow with one arm as he stares at the wall. Raihan tucks himself back into his trousers with a sigh, wincing a bit when he realizes he irritated his injuries a bit.

He looks blindly around the cabin, trying to remember where he threw his coat and boots. It’s hard to see, the light of the lantern’s long since gone out, leaving them shrouded in darkness. Raihan is about to stand up from the bed when he feels a hand lightly touch his wrist. He looks back immediately to see Leon’s rolled over to face him, reaching out for him, his tired eyes shining in the dark.

“I don’t… want to be alone,” Leon says. His hand curls around Raihan’s wrist. “Don’t leave me alone.”

Raihan’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He really should leave, should retreat to the crew’s quarters and act like he _didn’t_ just fuck their captain, but Leon’s eyes are pleading as they look up at him. And at this point, he can’t fault Leon for not wanting to be alone, he can’t fault Leon for this moment of vulnerability—not with everything going on. Raihan can put aside those angry feelings for now, and when this is over they can forget about it.

They don’t have to talk to each other. They don’t have to do anything. Raihan just has to stay there for the night.

So he nods slowly, lying back down in the bed that’s not really made for two people. No matter how he lies down, he can still feel Leon pressed against him. It’s distracting. He doesn’t think he can sleep like this, just like how he couldn’t sleep the night before.

He feels Leon turn around again so their backs are to each other. Raihan keeps his eyes open, scanning the walls in the dark, taking in the shapes and shadows of the flowers decorating the cabin. He almost considers asking Leon what that’s all about, what the point is, but he figures that it’s best they talk as little as possible.

After all, Leon seems to have fallen asleep already. His breathing is slow, steady, just like the rocking of the ship. Everything is silent save for the waves and the wind. Raihan breathes in, then shuts his eyes. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, but he knows he’s finally about to drift off into slumber when he feels trembling behind him.

Both eyes snap open but he remains still. Leon is shaking, twitching, making weak, pitiful little whimpers. Raihan first wonders if he’s crying, but the more he lies there and feels, listens, the more he realizes that Leon is having a _nightmare._ Right there, with Raihan lying right next to him. And he can’t help but wonder if this is a common occurrence. Does Leon often have nightmares? When he stayed with him the night before, Leon had been still and silent the entire night as he slept.

What is he supposed to do now?

 _Hold him,_ mama would say. _Leave him,_ his father would argue.

Raihan screws his eyes shut again. He does not hold him, or leave him. He simply stays like he was asked. He simply pretends to be asleep when Leon inevitably shoots upright, breathing heavily, covered in cold sweat—and proceeds to sob into his hands.

He doesn’t look.

He doesn’t think he should see that.

He doesn’t think he’s meant to see that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally there was gonna be a lot more but i got carried away aha..ahaha... so next chapter will have the other stuff i planned for this one + MORE
> 
> anyway sorry this one was a few days late. i had a birthday (im 23 now baybee), then i was having a bad mental health time and then got distracted by animal crossing... oops...
> 
> there's been more fanwork made for this fic and im just so :heart eyes:
> 
> art by joseph/@tinypalettes on twitter/insta: [here](https://twitter.com/tinypalettes/status/1243927234936782848) (twit link) [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/B-TAI_nF6hi/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet) (ig link)  
> cosplay by cole/@zeppewis on twitter/insta of the cabin scene in chapter 2: [here](https://twitter.com/zeppewis/status/1243799525673676800) (twit link) [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/B-ROjWaDOzN/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet) (ig link)  
> fanfic by seb/@chesnaughtz on twitter + megapidgeots on ao3: [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366377) (this fic takes place in the au's canon—i just have to find out where to place it! read it it's so good!!!!)  
> art by @shanshankuo on twitter: [here](https://twitter.com/shanshankuo/status/1245599199212662790)
> 
> thank you guys for the continued support. it means so much. 💖
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve been thinking,” Raihan says.
> 
> “About?”
> 
> “The situation we’ve found ourselves in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me when, when the end is nigh.  
> [i'll sober up and come down in time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CowqWKS5TlM).

The cabin is too dark, too cold when Leon jolts upright from his nightmare, chest heaving with sweat on his brow. It only gets colder when he hunches over, face in his hands, and falls into broken sobs. It’s always the same, always the sound of his family falling dead, but now Hop is with them. His dear brother. He could be dead by now, for all Leon knows. They could be too late already. There could just be a dead body waiting for him.

It’s days until they reach their destination, unless they happen to catch up with the kidnappers’ ship before then. So much time for Hop to get hurt, or die. God knows what they’ve already done to him.

He blinks the tears from his eyes, staring into the dark, then once more becomes aware of the presence at his side. Leon stiffens up, then looks down. Raihan hasn’t moved, the sound of his breathing is slow; Leon assumes he’s asleep. What a relief, he had already seen Leon so weak before, Leon would rather that not happen again.

Slowly he climbs out of the bed with a dull throb between his thighs. The blanket is too thin, he thinks they need to find thicker, warmer ones soon, especially for the winter months. If he could just find where he threw his coat…

On the floor, his foot hits something soft. Is that it? He blinks drowsily, reaching down to pick up the article of clothing. It feels bigger, heavier, but he doesn’t think too much about it as he tugs it around his shoulders and finds his way back to the bed.

No, this isn’t his coat, he realizes, but he struggles to care too much about that at the moment. Raihan might be angry come morning seeing Leon in his coat, but it’s… warm, the weight is comforting. It smells like the sea breeze and incense that tingles his nose.

He climbs back under the blanket and curls up, his face to Raihan’s exposed back. Leon can’t see it clearly now, but he can visualize the muscle there, each individual scar.

Ah… he’s very warm. Maybe Leon could just…

Feeling a little bold, Leon closes the tiny gap between their bodies, wiggling closer until he’s fit against Raihan’s back, his forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. Yes, big and warm, but Leon wishes he could be held, wonders if he would sleep better to the sound of another man’s heartbeat.

He falls asleep, dark and dreamless.

—

When he wakes again, the presence at his side is gone but the bed remains warm, letting Leon know that Raihan must have just risen himself. He reaches over blindly, patting the empty spot on the bed before rolling over on top of it. That large coat is still wrapped around him, much to his surprise—he expected Raihan would have taken it back immediately. Leon blinks his eyes open, squinting at the far wall.

His whole body throbs with a bone-deep ache, which he isn’t sure if he should attribute to sex or from his exhaustion. Leon really doesn’t want to get up. It’s cold outside of this bed, and the moment he steps out of his cabin he’ll be faced with reality again.

He needs to find his brother.

With a soft grunt, he pushes himself up, feeling stiff. Leon is about to kick the blanket off, to climb out of bed when a figure catches his eye. He whips his head around so fast he feels his neck pop, which causes him to wince.

Raihan may have left the bed, but he’s still in the cabin, sitting at the desk and not looking at Leon. His shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, not yet buttoned, and his locs are still free of the bandanna, a few hanging in front of his forehead. Leon tilts his head as he watches him, watches as he peers down at that heavy book of Shakespeare’s works on his desk. It’s open, and Raihan is running his finger along one page.

Oh, can he read?

Leon rubs his eyes with his palms. Slowly, he slips out of the bed, his bare skin rising in gooseflesh as the chill from outside hits him. He needs his clothes. Raihan seems focused, so Leon won’t bother him. He creeps around the cabin, finding where his clothing was carelessly tossed the night before and tugging them on. Finally, he drops the coat onto its rightful owner’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry for taking it,” he says. “It got… cold in the night. I thought it was mine.”

Raihan doesn’t look up, but he does shift in the chair ever so slightly. He doesn’t even make a noise of acknowledgement, but Leon knows he’s listening.

“You should leave soon. I’ll come later. People might talk if they see us—”

“What’s this book for?” Raihan cuts in. Leon startles a bit, blinking rapidly in surprise. “I never took you as a man who enjoys Shakespeare.”

“Ah.” Leon raises his brows, then lets out a little laugh. Wait, is Raihan actually trying to make conversation with him? Casual conversation? Isn’t this new. If circumstances were different Leon might be even happier about that, but he’s too torn up about Hop to fully appreciate it. If only it didn’t take a drastic situation to get Raihan to talk to him—he was surprised when Raihan, albeit reluctantly, agreed to even _help._

Leon doesn’t know why he requested Raihan come, why he requested Raihan leave his crew for a time to help him. Yes, they’re one man short now, but that’s rarely stopped him. It had just felt like… he _should_ ask. Like it’s something that had to be done. Leon isn’t sure how he feels about fate, no matter how much the concept is hammered into him by the things Sonia makes him read, but he’s sure this was meant to happen.

After a moment, he shakes himself from his thoughts and says, “I wouldn’t say I enjoy it.”

“Then why have this?”

“Not all of us had the luxury of literacy,” Leon replies. “Sonia has been teaching me how to read for quite a long time now. I would say I’ve improved quickly!”

Raihan turns his head to look over his shoulder at Leon. And he looks… confused?

“You can’t read?”

“I can now. Can you?”

“Yes,” Raihan says, shutting the book slowly. Leon fiddles with a button on his shirt. “Why Shakespeare?”

“It was her choice,” Leon replies with a weak smile. “Full of questions this morning, hm?”

Raihan huffs. He scoots the chair back so he can rise to his feet, shrugging on his coat as he does so. Leon watches him rise, chin tipping up, and noting not for the first time just how big of a man Raihan is. Certainly taller than anyone he’s met before. He looms over Leon, his droopy but sharp eyes peering down at him, searching his face.

“Don’t get used to it,” Raihan finally says… and pulls one of Leon’s cheeks. Leon practically squeaks in surprise, swatting Raihan’s hand away. “We need to focus on finding your brother.”

And hearing those words aloud makes him shudder a bit. Dread is pooling in his gut again, making his chest and throat feel tight. They still have at least another two days until they reach their destination, though he has trouble figuring out things like that—he always leaves that to Hop, or the navigator, Samuel.

“Right,” Leon breathes. His gaze tears away from Raihan’s face as he turns. “I’ll see you up top soon.”

Raihan hums. Without another word, he’s buttoning his shirt, pushing his locs back so he can tie his bandanna around his head, tugging his boots on, and leaving the cabin with his coat fluttering behind him. Leon can only stare after him, brows twitching.

How can he just leave so easily?

At least when Raihan looked at him today, his eyes lacked their usual disdain when he’s around Leon.

—

Leon emerges from his cabin not long after, adjusting his coat over his shoulders and the hat on his head. The wind is biting, it makes his face feel like it might burn and sends a shiver through his body. Still, he doesn’t let that show. His crew continue on with their duties, a few calling greetings to him which are heartily returned.

He sees Raihan almost immediately; he’s carrying a few sacks across the deck, one over each shoulder as if they weigh nothing to him. Their eyes meet briefly, only for Raihan to direct his gaze elsewhere and continue what he was doing before. The sacks are handed off to Milo, who takes them below deck.

Leon didn’t expect Raihan would actually help around on the ship during this voyage, without even being asked to. Well… there are plenty of things he doesn’t know about Raihan. He knows Raihan’s anger, red-hot and confusing. He knows Raihan’s body; he knows the feeling of that strong, toned muscle under dark skin; he knows each scar; he knows that running his hands over Raihan’s narrow hips makes him squirm. But he doesn’t know much about him outside of sex—he knows now that Raihan can read, and he’s observed that bright smile and loud laugh, but they were never for him.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears a loud bark, and then Cora is running into view, her red fur glossy in the sunlight. The dog nearly barrels into Raihan, but the man side steps gracefully. She stops in front of Leon, who crouches down to rub her behind the ears.

“Did you have fun sleeping in Sonia’s quarters last night?” He says to Cora, who shoves her cold nose against his cheek. “You can sleep in mine tonight.”

He wonders if she’s looking for Hop. She always enjoyed watching over him in his quarters when the boy slept. Leon’s stomach feels like it’s boiling.

There is a pair of eyes on him again, he can feel them. When he looks up, he sees Raihan watching him with an unreadable expression.

“You have a dog,” Raihan states.

“You’ve only just noticed?”

“I noticed before. I just didn’t think it was important.” That makes Leon huff. He runs Cora behind the ears and watches her tail wag excitedly.

“You have a dog, too, right?” Small talk. A distraction from his thoughts. He’s only seen glimpses of the dog. Some gray behemoth of a canine that’s almost caught Leon sneaking onto Raihan’s ship more than once.

Raihan looks up at the sky, then down at the deck. “Yes. His name’s Ludo.”

“That’s a good name,” Leon says. He’s trying to be friendly, even though he’s on the verge of another mental break. They can’t waste too much time, not when his brother’s life is on the line.

The other man just nods and turns away. Leon opens his mouth to speak again, but he’s cut off by someone calling his name. When he looks towards the source, he sees Sonia standing with the navigator and quickly speeds over with his dog in tow.

There isn’t much to say—Leon can only assume Sonia had seen the awkward exchange between him and Raihan and decided to save him from any more potential embarrassment. How is he supposed to talk to Raihan, honestly? Especially if Raihan will hardly talk to him outside of a bed. And Leon is- Leon is _good_ at talking to people, he’s charming and charismatic, but Raihan is so… impossible.

These circumstances aren’t the best to get to know someone, either, and Leon tries to tell himself he might just be using Raihan as a way to distract himself from everything.

Even if he knows that isn’t true.

Samuel, Leon, and Sonia speak in low tones to each other. The captors are likely a good day and a half ahead of them, and the Champion Time still has a good two days to go until they reach their destination, not including any possible bad weather. Two more days that give the captors more time to hurt Hop, or worse. The thought makes him prickle, makes fire burn in his belly, rising up to his chest, the anger almost suffocating.

He breathes in deep, thanking the two and pointedly ignoring the look that Sonia is giving him. Leon needs to occupy himself somehow, or else he’s going to be an anxious wreck pacing the deck for the next few days, and he does _not_ want his crew to see him in that state. They already saw him unconscious with a tear-stained face when Raihan brought him back, and even that was too much for his pride to handle.

He’s walking off towards the other end of the ship with Cora at his side when he hears footsteps close behind him, quick clicking of boot heels on wood, two steps for each one that he takes. Sonia isn’t saying anything as she follows him, but he’s assuming she wants to talk to him again. In private. God knows what about, though. Maybe to comfort him, or apologize for leaving Hop alone even though it wasn’t her fault to begin with. For all he knows, they could’ve taken her in the process, too, had she been there—or killed her.

Regardless, he takes a hint and disappears below deck. He passes a few crewmen working on the cannons with a nod of acknowledgement, and then he’s ducking into a small, mostly unused study (Leon prefers the desk in his cabin to this, so they’ve begun to use it as extra storage space). Whatever she wants to talk about, it’s most likely best to keep it private.

Sonia shuts the door behind her and meets his gaze.

“What do you need?” Leon asks after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, mostly full of Sonia not-so-subtly scrutinizing him. In the light filtering in, he can see dust motes floating between them.

“Leon…” Sonia begins. “You know I always worry about you, I know this is hard for you, so I know you might be doing things you normally wouldn’t—”

Leon blinks. “I— what?”

She’s twirling a lock of orange hair around her fingers almost nervously. “You’re my captain, but more importantly my friend, so I’ll always be there to support you…”

“What’s all this about?”

“Oh. Well.” Sonia laughs awkwardly. “I saw Captain Kinsley leave your cabin earlier.”

Ah.

“Well!” Leon says, beginning to push past her without gracing her with a real response. No attempt at excuses, no explanation. “I should get going!”

She saw him? She saw Raihan leave his cabin? Shit, maybe this was a bad idea. Did anyone else see him, or just her? Word spreads fast on this ship, though most know not to gossip too much about their captain. But he doesn’t want anyone to know about whatever… relationship he has with the captain that _hates_ him.

“Leon!” A hand grabs his wrist and yanks him back. He stumbles a bit, nearly falling back on top of her, but manages to catch his balance just in time. Sonia glares up at him. “Don’t run away from this!”

“I don’t want to listen to you _scold_ me,” he almost whines, wrenching his arm free from her grasp.

“Sometimes you _need_ to be scolded,” she shoots back. “That isn’t what I’m doing, though. I’m just worried.”

Leon works his jaw, scrunches his nose up, but doesn’t respond. He’s having a bit of difficulty looking her in the eye, and whatever he wants to say dies on his tongue. Sonia sighs.

“No one else saw, if you were wondering.” That makes Leon perk up a bit. Sonia seeing was slightly mortifying, but she isn’t one to tell the whole ship or judge him too hard. Leon clenches his fists nervously. “How long have you two been…”

“A few months,” Leon mumbles. Sonia nods.

“Doesn’t he hate you?”

“Supposedly.”

“Then why is he—”

“I’m not a mind reader, Sonia,” he cuts in. “I don’t know why he’s doing any of this, he won’t tell me anything. It’s a bleeding miracle he even agreed to come along.”

Sonia is silent, tearing her eyes away from him momentarily. Leon wonders what she’s thinking, hopes that her view of him hasn’t been sullied in any way. Not that he really believes it would, but it’s still a nagging anxiety. The last thing he wants is to disappoint her or any of his crew.

“Just be careful,” Sonia finally says, her voice soft. “No one wants you getting hurt.”

Leon swallows thickly. “We can continue this conversation another time, all right? When my brother is safe.”

All she does is give an affirmative hum. With one last concerned look and a pat to his shoulder, she turns and leaves, leaving Leon standing there alone and tense.

He doesn’t want to think about whatever relationship he has with Raihan right now, he just wants to find his brother.

Leon kicks a hole into a wooden crate in frustration before he finally leaves.

—

The rest of the day goes like any other, save for Leon being uncharacteristically moody, his usually calm temper short, easily set off. His crew, thankfully, know not to push it too much—no one wants to be on Leon Khanna’s bad side. He can be much like the very ocean he loves: gentle and kind one moment, wild and unforgiving the next.

Raihan is… very obviously avoiding him, which isn’t that easy when you’re on the same ship, but he somehow manages. He won’t look at Leon, won’t speak to him, barely acknowledges that he’s there. It’s irritating to say the least, but it’s low on his list of worries at the moment. For now, he’s worried most about his brother.

That night Raihan doesn’t visit his cabin again. Leon isn’t sure what to think about that, but maybe it’s for the best. He’s already grown a bit of an attachment to the man despite whatever bad blood there is between them, maybe he _should_ keep his distance before it gets out of hand.

He sleeps alone and the silence is deafening.

—

Gloria and her brother are below deck gnawing at hardtack when Leon finds them the next day. The pair don’t seem to know what to do with themselves just yet, but they also seem eager to help. Raihan brought them because Gloria knew things, and he had promised to keep her and her brother safe.

It reminds Leon that despite the roughness and anger Raihan has reserved for him, he is kind, warm, open with most everyone else— _Why can’t he be like that with me?_

Both of the children look up at Leon with wide eyes. He vaguely recognized them from times before: Gloria worked at the tavern in Glimwood, while her brother had been the blacksmith’s apprentice. They’re barely older than Hop by the looks of it. In any other world maybe they could have grown up with Hop, maybe they could have been friends.

Maybe, if Hop is still alive when they find him, they _will_ become friends.

“How are you two faring?“ Leon asks with a smile. He sits at Gloria’s other side, but keeps a fair bit of distance. It would be no surprise if they were wary of him—scared, even—especially since Gloria had witnessed just what happens if you cross him. But Leon likes to believe he’s good with children, he’s a big brother at heart and the need to protect is natural for him.

“Fine,” Gloria says, stretching her legs out. “Victor got a li’l sea sick earlier, but we’re gettin’ used to it. Never thought we’d be part of somethin’ like this.”

“It takes getting used to,” Leon replies. “When this is all over—do you think you’ll stay, or return to your home in Glimwood?”

Both of the siblings are silent, thoughtful. Finally, it’s Victor who speaks and Leon realizes it’s the first time he’s heard him; his voice is so gentle, “We’re talkin’ about it. Dunno yet.”

Leon nods. “Regardless,” he begins, crossing his ankles. “You’ll be guaranteed protection.”

“How d’ya know that?” Gloria asks.

“I… have my ways,” Leon says. “Both of you, and your family.”

Gloria breathes in. “Just us. Our family’s gone.“

“Oh.” Leon’s heart aches. No family, just each other. Just like him and Hop. He almost asks Gloria to tell him more, but he refrains. It isn’t his place, and he doesn’t enjoy talking about his own past, so he isn’t about to pry about theirs.

Silence, again, save for footsteps up above.

“Thank you,” Gloria says, her voice softer than Leon’s ever remembered it being before. “Both you n’ Captain Kinsley’ve been so kind to us. This isn’t somethin’ me or Victor ever expected.”

Leon smiles a bit wider, but it’s shaky. “No need to thank me,” he says, managing to keep the quiver out of his voice. “We’re always willing to help anyone in need.”

—

That night, Raihan visits him again.

It’s late, late enough that no one would even notice Raihan slipping away to begin with. Late enough that Leon _should_ be asleep, but is instead sitting at his desk in the candlelight, his eyes straining to read the words of the novel placed in front of him. In one hand he holds a quill as he scratches down any words he doesn’t really understand to go over with Sonia later. He can’t really focus, not with everything on his mind, and everything is blurring together.

Anything to keep him from falling into a fitful sleep plagued by nightmares.

Or maybe he’ll end up falling asleep at the desk and wake up with a sore neck.

 _The Tempest_ usually grabs his attention with ease, but he can’t appreciate it now. Maybe he should choose something different, or maybe he should just write letters he’ll never send to people he’ll never see again: people in his past, long dead, people he wishes he could see again. So many words left unsaid, so many things stories he wants to tell.

He’s closing the book when he hears the cabin door open. Instantly, he’s tensing up, frozen in place. Cora, where she’s curled up on the floor, doesn’t react, but Leon is still on alert. _Where is my sword? Across the room? Damn it!_

“Leon.” The voice, low and smooth, makes him relax almost immediately. He breathes a sigh of relief. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

Leon sets the quill down and looks over his shoulder to where Raihan stands, tall and proud, illuminated by the candlelight. He swears those blue eyes gleam in the dark as they hone in on him, all of Raihan’s attention only on _him._ It makes him preen, the thought. All of Raihan’s attention, only on him, even if it’s only for a little while.

“I didn’t think you’d show up,” Leon replies. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Raihan says. He doesn’t move, remaining near the cabin door, a shadow in the dim light. Tall, imposing, but Leon feels no fear, he never feels any fear towards Raihan—which, he assumes, aggravates the other man somewhat. Everything he does aggravates the other man somewhat.

“About?” Leon rises from the chair but doesn’t move much farther, remaining rooted in place as he watches Raihan.

“The situation we’ve found ourselves in.”

Leon raises his brows. “What about it?”

“I just don’t know _how_ …” Raihan breathes. “I got here. Why I even agreed to it.”

“It’s a bit too late to start having second thoughts,” Leon points out. “Unless you plan to swim back to Glimwood?”

“That’s not what—” Raihan grits his teeth, inhaling sharp. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” There is no hiding the growing irritation in his voice, his usually impressive patience beginning to crumble right before his eyes. If Raihan would just talk to him properly then there wouldn’t be this bad blood between them, right? Leon wouldn’t be sitting there, confused, after every meeting wondering what he did, what he was doing, that had Raihan so upset, right?

Raihan is taking a step forward now, then another. Leon doesn’t move.

“I still hate you,” Raihan states. “But I’m still helping you. It’s confusing. You’re confusing.”

“Oh, I’m the confusing one? You’re the one that won’t even talk to me,” Leon bites back bitterly. Raihan is standing right in front of him now, looming over him in a way that should be frightening; it isn’t, but Leon finds himself leaning away regardless. He feels the edge of the desk digging into his spine. “I never know what you’re feeling.”

Raihan leans forward, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands and caging Leon in. Leon swallows dryly. He can feel Raihan’s breath on his face now.

“What is there to talk about?”

“You know,” Leon says, voice quiet. “But if you won’t talk, at least kiss me. That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it?”

A beat of silence, Raihan’s expression indiscernible, and then he dips his head down to meet Leon in a kiss that Leon reciprocates without hesitation. Both of his hands come up to cradle Raihan’s face, his thumb brushing the scar on his cheek. Leon wants to know about that scar, he wants to know so many things about Raihan that Raihan won’t tell him.

Raihan’s hands drop from the desk, landing now on Leon’s hips, then running down to his thighs. He takes hold of the backs of them, fingers digging into the softer flesh among toned muscle, then lifts Leon with little effort to place him on the edge of the desk.

The kiss is broken and Leon tilts his head to one side when Raihan brushes his hair back to mouth along his neck. His mouth is hot, hungry, and familiar. A slight brush of teeth has Leon shivering, a tongue pressing to his pulse has him sighing, and he really could get lost in this—in the feeling of Raihan kissing him all over, in the feeling of Raihan taking him apart and piecing him back together. Like this, he can forget about the weight of the world on his shoulders, like this he can forget his troubles, but the one thing he can’t forget is the purpose of this voyage. His brother, and how his life is on the line.

Leon’s stomach feels too hot suddenly. Raihan’s hands are running along his waist, but he can’t enjoy the feeling anymore. Not now, not when everything is rushing back.

“Wait,” Leon rasps. “Stop.”

And Raihan does, instantly. The man is drawing back, staring at Leon with wide eyes. Leon turns his gaze away. This is the first time he’s ever rejected Raihan, isn’t it?

“I can’t… do this. Not now. I’m sorry.”

Raihan takes a deep breath and pulls his hands away; Leon misses their warmth already. He screws his eyes shut and he can’t stop his breath from shaking. Too much is going on for his emotions to handle, he feels like he might burst at the seams, he feels like he really might go mad from it all. If— _when_ he finds Hop, he can try to figure out whatever he feels towards Raihan. But now isn’t the time. Leon already allowed Raihan in once during this voyage, already let him help forget about everything for a night, but he can’t do that again. He needs to keep his mind on what’s important.

“I…” Raihan flounders, looking thoroughly embarrassed. He shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed, Leon was the one who invited him to kiss him in the first place! “Right, I understand. I’ll leave.”

“You don’t have to leave!” Leon quickly says. “I— well, I’m sure you _want_ to, but you don’t _have_ to.” What is he doing? Inviting Raihan to stay in his cabin again will just make things all the more confusing for him.

“Wouldn’t you prefer being alone?” The tone of Raihan’s voice is like ice. Leon winces, and he hopes Raihan doesn’t notice. Knowing Raihan, he probably does. Whether he cares is a whole different story.

Leon drags a hand over his face and slips off his perch on the desk. “Usually,” he says. “But…”

“But what?” Raihan cuts in, frustration clear in his voice. “What, do you want me to stay?”

“You don’t need to get hosti—”

“I never know what you’re thinking,” Raihan snaps. “I never know. I don’t even know why I’m here. So you can patronize me more, maybe? I don’t know anything that goes on in your head—”

“I never know what goes on in _your_ head!” Leon interrupts, and he doesn’t even realize his voice is rising until the words come out, unfiltered and unbidden. Cora lifts her head, ears perking. Raihan looks startled, going stiff and wide-eyed, mouth hanging open as Leon continues, “I never know what _you’re_ thinking. You don’t talk to me, you barely look at me unless we fuck and I- I’ve been _trying_ to know you. To figure you out. To understand you. But you won’t let—”

And, with no warning, Raihan whips around, coat swirling about him, and leaves without a word, without letting Leon finish. Leon almost wants to scream after him, to call him a _coward!_

Opal’s words, asking if Leon had his heart broken, echo in his mind.

He lets out a furious shout, slams his fist into the cabin wall hard enough it almost splinters, and then burrows himself into his bed in hopes he’ll just become one with it. If he’s lucky, no one will have heard any of that, so he won’t have to explain. And he definitely won’t be telling Sonia.

He doesn’t sleep.

—

When he leaves his cabin that next morning and returns to the deck, he spots Sonia giving him an odd look. Maybe he just looks raggedy, maybe his exhaustion is evident, but he can’t really bring himself to care right now. A sleepless night weighs him down, but he does his best to remain strong and tall for his crew. It had been long, and cold, and the angry look in Raihan’s eyes haunts him, the confusion that replaced it when Leon raised his voice, when Leon said what he had been wanting to say for so long.

He should have expected Raihan to leave, but it still hurt when it happened.

At least, he thinks, he didn’t cry. That would have been a bigger blow to his pride.

The day goes by relatively quietly. According to the navigator, they should be at their destination by midday tomorrow. Leon just nods with a low hum. When he sees Raihan out of the corner of his eye, in surprisingly deep conversation with Milo, he says nothing, instead turning his attention to things much more… important. Like finding his brother, and coming up with a plan for how he’s going to get his brother back. The people that did this were stupid enough already to have one of their men go bragging in a tavern about it, but that doesn’t mean getting into their little hideout will be easy.

Especially when approaching on a very large ship.

What Leon reminds himself of is that they don’t really want his brother. They want him. This was always their end goal: get Leon into their grasp. Maybe they’d kill him if they ever successfully captured him, or maybe they’d just show him off and brag about how _they_ were able to lure in the Champion of the Seas. As if they didn’t take the easy way and capture his brother just to draw him in.

He sleeps that night, at least, but with a sense of dread clouding his mind, leading to more dreams. These are less like nightmares, but still hardly pleasant. The feeling that he’s still stuck under those floorboards again, but instead of listening to his family get shot while his brother breathes hard underneath him, his thoughts are the ones walking across the floor above, seeking him out, wanting to grasp his heart with their icy talons and squeeze. He feels like he can’t breathe.

The sun is beginning to pour in through the window when Leon finally opens his eyes, the light chasing away those unpleasant dreams. He feels rested this morning, compared to the last, but his body still feels too heavy, his eyes still burning.

But he has something that he has to do. They’ll be reaching the island in a few hours’ time, if the navigator is to be believed—Leon doesn’t have a great sense of direction and how long it takes to get anywhere, after all.

—

“Leon,” Sonia says, her voice hushed as she approaches his side. “How are we going to do this?”

Leon tilts his head to one side, mouth quirking downward. He reaches his hand up to adjust his hat on his head, then drops it to feel the hilt of his sword at his hip. The pistol is at his other hip, and it feels like a dead weight.

“You all will be staying here,” Leon says, finally looking back down at her. “I’ll be going in. I’ll take one of the boats.”

“Alone?” Sonia’s brows shoot up. A hand latches onto Leon’s wrist, and he quickly pulls it away. Sonia looks… scared? Why should she be scared? She knows he’s able to defend himself, she knows he’s taken on many men at once and survived.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Leon states coolly. “I’ll survive.”

“But what if you don’t?” Her voice is small, and suddenly Leon is reminded of the fourteen-year-old noble girl with muddied clothes and a puppy in her arms, fleeing from a life that would never suit her. “Then we lose both you and Hop.”

Leon opens his mouth, then closes it tight. Sonia touches his arm again. “Remember, you’re not invincible, Leon,” she says carefully, “You’re still a man like any other man. Death can still touch you.”

The only thing that earns her is a slow nod. Leon swallows thickly, and when he turns away so he can go make preparations he nearly collides face-first into a broad (and familiar) chest. Strong hands quickly grab him by the arms before he can make contact, keeping him firmly in place, and Leon blinks a few times in confusion.

He looks up slowly, meeting blue eyes that stare down at him with… concern? Annoyance? Leon can’t quite place it. He watches Raihan’s scarred brow tick upward, and then the man lets him go. Immediately, he takes a step back, inhaling deep and trying to pretend that the tension between them _isn’t_ there. God, he can feel Sonia staring at them both, and even if he can’t see it right now he _knows_ it’s definitely a mix of irritation and maybe a bit of judgment.

“You’re not going alone,” Raihan says firmly. “I didn’t agree to come with you just for you to do everything yourself. Or do you just want to show off?”

Wait, is…

Is Raihan _smiling_ at him?

Leon blinks a few more times because he can hardly believe what he’s seeing, but when he looks clearly again that smile is gone, replaced by the usual stony expression Raihan wears whenever he’s with Leon. Whatever disappointment he feels he swallows down, because that’s not what matters right now. He breathes in deep.

“You won’t get in my way?” Leon can’t help but ask.

Raihan huffs out a laugh. “I’d worry more about _you_ getting in _my_ way.”

“Work it out. Quickly,” Sonia cuts in. “Within the next few minutes, preferably.”

Maybe he shouldn’t feel so surprised Raihan is willing to come along with him, because if it weren’t for Raihan they may be days behind in their rescue, they could have been too late (if they aren’t already). But what does he get out of this? Is he doing this because he cares, or because of some sense of obligation? And after Leon yelled at him, why would he ever want to help further?

So, so confusing.

Leon squints up at Raihan again. He tilts his head to one side, pondering, but it doesn’t take long for him to say, “Right. You’ll come along. Your giant body would be a good shield, I think—”

“Right, right. Come on then, little man,” Raihan snorts and steps aside so Leon can pass him. “We can exchange jabs later, yeah? When your brother is safe.”

 _When your brother is safe._ So does Raihan care? If not about Leon, then about Hop? The boy he’s never met?

“When my brother is safe,” Leon murmurs with a nod.

—

By the time they’re in the rowboat, lowered into the water, and left to their own devices Leon can see that the sun is slowly beginning to descend. The light bounces off of the calm waters, and when Leon really _looks_ he swears it makes Raihan’s skin glow. They both work the oars steadily, pointedly not looking at one another as they do. It’s silent, almost agonizingly so.

It’s the last thing he should worry about. Leon glances over his shoulder to the ship that is gradually getting further and further away, then he looks forward again, past Raihan. The island itself is mostly within a large cave, hidden from the sunlight and from most any ship that may pass through. The perfect hiding spot, but they could only hide for so long before someone found them.

Leon tries to calm his nerves and sits up straighter. He stretches one leg out, nudging the quiver of arrows sitting at the bottom of the boat, his boot bumping against Raihan’s ankle. The other doesn’t react much beside pulling his foot back a few centimeters. Leon huffs out a sigh. The silence is killing him, which is saying something since he’s usually quite _fine_ with silence, but this is just… different. He wants to know what Raihan is thinking, or feeling, or something.

“Considering we both may die,” Leon finally says, “Can I ask you something? Just one thing.”

Raihan doesn’t respond for a few moments, keeping his eyes to the side. And then, “Go ahead.”

He hums low with a nod. “You were… very willing to help find my brother,” Leon says. “Do you have siblings?”

“No,” Raihan says. “Or, not that I know of. My mama probably wasn’t the only young lady my father went after.” Leon knows he isn’t imagining that hint of bitterness at the edge of Raihan’s voice, the way his eyes flash almost dangerously when he speaks of his father. Ah, was that a sore subject? He mentally smacks himself. Okay, maybe family talk is completely off the table, but he couldn’t help but ask. Still, Raihan keeps talking, “I dunno. Nessa, maybe, she’s like a sister to me…”

Leon sighs softly. Finding family in one’s crew—he can relate to that, at least, but he doesn’t know if he ever would have survived without his little brother at his side.

“It’s good that you have someone,” Leon says. “That’s… all I wanted to know.”

Raihan says nothing. They continue rowing, matching one another’s movements so easily, so… perfectly. Leon doesn’t think too much about it, especially now that they’ve entered the cave and he can see the glow from the encampment. From here, he can see a guard pacing outside one building. Have they been noticed yet?

It doesn’t matter, because when they get closer Raihan is immediately picking up the bow and pulling an arrow out of the quiver. He moves so fast, notching the arrow and then firing, hitting the guard directly between the eyes. They crumple to the ground like a ragdoll.

No need to worry about anyone sounding an alarm now, Leon hopes, but he is planning on killing at least most of the bastards here.

They’re out of the boat before it even hits land, freezing water splashing up to Leon’s knees (while, annoyingly enough, not even reaching Raihan’s). Raihan keeps the bow and arrows with his sword at his hip, while Leon remains reliant on only his sword and his pistol.

And his bare hands.

Those have saved him more than once.

As much as he’s tempted to do so, they don’t charge. That would be stupid, and while Leon is—angry, _furious_ , **_enraged_** , he’s going to try not to act _too_ irrationally. He has a brain, he’s going to use it.

They approach the body and Raihan stares down at it dubiously, nudging it with the toe of his boot before he bends over and rips the arrow out of the guard’s head. It’s followed by a short spurt of blood, with flecks of brain matter sticking to the arrowhead. Leon watches as Raihan scowls at it, before he tears his eyes away from the other, looks down, and spits on the body.

 _To hell with superstitions,_ he thinks as he rolls the body into the water. If the angered spirit of this bastard comes back to haunt him, it’ll just be one of many other ghosts.

The slow, drifting tides steadily bring the body further and further out. Leon turns away before he can watch it sink beneath the surface entirely, eyes pinched shut until he feels a light touch to his elbow. They snap open again, head whipping down to stare at the hand on his arm. He looks back up, meeting Raihan’s gaze; it’s sharp, determined. He says nothing, but Leon understands. Leon nods, and Raihan nods back.

Shadows engulf them as they move, the torchlight barely reaching them. Leon doesn’t know where to begin, there are a few buildings, and Leon wonders briefly how they were built all the way out here. An old British outpost, perhaps, taken over sometime in recent years. It’s not very big in general, but Leon also… still has difficulty finding his way anywhere, he could easily get lost here without anyone to guide him.

Raihan remains at his side, helping keep his eyes and feet forward. One building has a glow in the small window, and as they approach it he can hear the muffled sounds of conversation, of laughter. Laughter. What do they have to laugh about? It makes Leon’s blood boil, makes his vision red. _How dare they laugh, after what they’ve done—!_

“Leon,” Raihan’s hushed whisper makes him realize how, without thinking, he had drawn his rapier, his other hand clenched into a tight fist, and how his teeth are grinding so hard they might break.

He breathes heavily as he looks at Raihan, his whole body trembling. When he looks at Raihan now, bowing so they’re at eye-level, a hand landing on Leon’s shoulder, cast half in shadow and half in firelight, he doesn’t know how to feel. The anger is suffocating, but Raihan’s presence is grounding. How does a man who hates him, a man that _he_ should hate in return, make him feel so calm?

Leon unfurls his fist, flexes his fingers, then reaches out to grab the collar of Raihan’s coat. He holds onto it tight, golden eyes boring into blue.

“Find my brother,” he says. “If I don’t make it out of here, tell him—” He swallows. “He was my whole world. Everything to me. And I love him.”

Raihan stares at him, mouth slightly agape. Leon doesn’t bother wondering what he’s thinking right now, he doesn’t actually care all that much, though perhaps he will later. He almost pushes Raihan away without waiting for a reply, but before he can Raihan is nodding. Leon inhales sharply, releases his coat and then pulls his hand back to reach into his shirt and yank the tiny amulet from around his neck. He drops it into Raihan’s palm.

“Go,” Leon breathes, giving Raihan a shove. Raihan takes a few steps away, gives him one last look, then whips around and disappears into the darkness. Leon stares at the wooden door in front of him. There is the glow of light coming from beneath it. The laughter is louder now. Leon’s mind, which felt, for a time, like it was screaming at him from all directions, is now quiet. Calm. Focused. The rapier is sheathed again, for the moment, as Leon draws the pistol.

He loads it quickly, easily, with black powder and primer smeared on his fingers. He takes just a split second to make sure it’s ready before he strides up to the door.

It’s kicked open, breaking off its hinges and slamming to the floor. Before the men can react, Leon is lifting the pistol and firing into the nearest man’s head. The lead ball bursts violently out of the back of his skull, sending blood and brains and bits of bone flying, splattering across the wall. Smoke puffs out around him, stings his eyes, burns his throat, but he doesn’t care.

“This is what happens,” he snarls as the body hits the floor, “when you take something away from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so... so SO SO sorry it took so long. i can't apologize enough i'm soooo sorry i promise the next update won't take so long. motivation was hard to come by i'm kind of in the middle of a depressive episode and feel like i'm going a bit insane. i'm not too happy with this chapter, to be honest, but... what can you do, i guess. i hope you guys enjoy it regardless.
> 
> also since i wasn't able to get off my ass and write anything for her Specifically here's a birthday shoutout since her birthday is TODAY to my friend ally i wuv you
> 
> here's more fanart baybee thank u all so much for the lovely art it blows me away every time 💖
> 
> art by @KatanaRamen on twitter of raihan bein hot as usual: [here](https://twitter.com/KatanaRamen/status/1249518972094930944)  
> art by @SkyFangz on twitter from the end scene in chapter 6: [here](https://twitter.com/SkyFangz/status/1251772553158254593)  
> art by @HHokori on twitter from the end scene of chapter 6: [here](https://twitter.com/HHokkori/status/1256923908164341760?s=19)
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I did it, Lee,” Hop rasps into Leon's elbow before his body begins to shake with weak sobs. Tears soak Leon’s torn sleeve. “I did it. Please be proud of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fucked with the forces that our eyes can't see, now the [darkness got a hold on me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5axbaGBVto).

The look in Leon’s eyes lingers in his mind. An almost haunted look beneath the blazing anger. Whatever Leon was feeling all these days, it was hidden well beneath a veneer of calm and stability. There was no time for him to show his worry, his fury on the ship, at least not while facing his crew.

That didn’t stop Leon from blowing up on him, though, but Raihan has already sulked about that enough, and he can’t afford to be thinking about it right now. The only thing he can afford to think about right now is locating the little brother and making sure he’s safe so they can get the hell out of here. Whatever pondering he wants to do about Leon, Leon’s state of mind, _whatever,_ can wait for a bit.

In his hand, he still grips the amulet Leon had given him tightly. The metal digs into the skin of his palm uncomfortably, but it’s a grounding feeling. He assumes he’s meant to give it to the little brother in the event Leon doesn’t make it out of here but he- he _has_ to make it out. He never loses, ever. The Champion wouldn’t lose to a few thugs, would he?

Lost in thought, like he didn’t want to be in the first place, he almost lets out a shout of surprise when he nearly steps into a chicken coop. The birds squawk and scatter and he curses softly, nose wrinkling up at the foul scent. One of them pecks at his trousers, but he shakes it off and carries on.

With only the light of the torches and the dim light filtering in through the opening at the top of the cave, he can’t really see for shit. Raihan squints in the dark, watches the shadows dance over the small buildings under the flickering firelight. Which one of these could possibly be holding a prisoner, or even _prisoners_?

There is a gunshot from behind him, loud and sudden, the sound bouncing off the rocky walls around him. It doesn’t make him startle, almost like he was expecting it; Leon must have made his move. A few moments after, he hears sounds of shouting, sounds of metal clanging together.

Raihan takes it as a cue to _hurry the fuck up._ His stalking through the shadows turns into a quick gait as he shoves the amulet into his pocket, his footsteps still light and careful as to not make as much noise as they usually might. There hasn’t been the sound of anyone else rushing to come to see what the commotion is, there hasn't been any sign of another guard at all. Are they this unprepared? This stupid? Especially when they were trying to draw in the _Champion of the Seas_? No matter how Raihan feels about Leon, even he knows that these thugs’ goal is a damn fool’s errand.

He tramples a little clumsily through bushes, forgetting his earlier attempt at trying to be quiet so he wouldn’t draw any attention to himself, but from the looks of things there is no one whose attention he _could_ draw. Besides that one single lookout, everyone must have been drinking—probably thinking their plan was going to succeed, celebrating before they even new for sure.

Ah, hold on.

Raihan pops a squat, having to lower himself down significantly to hide behind a few bushes as the door to one small building opens. A man steps out, scans his surroundings, and then quickly makes his way down the steps. Raihan stays stock-still and silent, eyes sharp as he watches the man proceed to rush across the ground, presumably having heard the gunshot. His eyes flicker to the door he left open, then back to the man.

Leon doesn’t need one more foe to worry about.

As the man passes right by where he hides, Raihan rises to his full height slowly, a dark shadow in the dim firelight. He moves with long strides, his boots hardly making a sound against the grass and dirt. It’s easy to catch up with the other; as soon as the man stops at the side of one building to peer around the corner, making sure the coast is clear, Raihan looms over him from behind.

Both large hands take hold of either side of his head. The man freezes.

There is a long stretch of silence, save for their breathing, and the water lapping at the shore.

Then that silence is broken by a sickening crack as Raihan snaps his neck. The body crumbles to the ground at his feet.

Raihan pushes the body over onto its back with the toe of his boot. He kneels down, proceeding to loot the pistol and its ammunition right off of it. Eyeing the sword, he half considers taking it as well—he _has_ been working on his dual-wielding, after all. Ultimately he decides against it, figuring he’s going to need to have at least one hand free at all times.

He tucks the pistol into his belt. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes hone in on the building once again and the open door. There’s a flickering light coming from within. Raihan looks down at the body again and, just to be sure, fishes around in the man’s pockets to see if there are any keys on his person. There isn’t, much to Raihan’s frustration. He rises to his feet with a heavy sigh, then turns on his heel and breaks into a sprint.

As he steps inside, he’s hit with the sour stench of piss and vomit. His face twists, but he forces himself to bear it. He’s smelled worse. No one else is inside, there are two torches on the wall, and on the opposite side of the room are three cells.

Two of them are empty, one of them isn’t.

He can’t see the person sitting inside very well, just that they’re huddled in one corner, the light barely reaching them. Raihan steps further inside, scanning the walls for any sort of keys that could be hanging anywhere, scouring the surface of the single table inside. Nothing. Raihan looks back at the cell, then slowly approaches it.

What he can tell is the person inside is a boy, a young boy. Curled in on himself, trembling, shadows casting over his face. When Raihan approaches he can see the small figure tense up, can hear his breath hitch.

Raihan can’t imagine he’s a very calming sight, really. Taller than most men, with his dark coat and piercing eyes. So he does his best to soften his expression, letting his lips tug into a small smile, his body language open. It’s hard to maintain when he swears he still hears the distant sound of fighting and yelling, the undeniable crack of a gunshot that makes the boy in the cell startle. Raihan manages to keep his calm, at least outwardly.

As he peers further into the shadows, a pair of wide eyes stares back at him. Wide, golden eyes that are alight with fear. They don’t have the same intensity as that other familiar pair of golden eyes he knows so well, but Raihan supposes that could be because of exhaustion. He can’t imagine the boy’s been fed much since he’s been here, and probably hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

“You’re Hop, yeah?” He keeps his voice light, warm.

The boy doesn’t speak, but does at least nod, leaning forward from the shadows so more of his face is visible. God, the closer Raihan looks the more he sees just how _much_ Hop looks like Leon. And like this he can see the ugly, inflamed gash over the boy’s brow (that’ll scar, he knows) and his busted lip.

It angers him, just how easily these men hurt a _child._

“You know who I am?”

A pause, before Hop nods again.

“Good lad. I’m here to save you.” Raihan rises back to his full height again. His hands fumble with the lock. May have to just shoot it. The man that was guarding this place didn’t have any keys anywhere, Raihan assumes someone else was in charge of those. “Sit back for just a moment while I take care of this.”

He pulls out the pistol stolen from the body and quickly loads it. All the while, he feels Hop’s eyes trained on him. Raihan points it at the lock and fires, breaking through the metal in a puff of gunpowder and letting the cell door open with a creak. Hop remains where he’s sitting, his breathing heavy in the ensuing silence.

Raihan ducks into the cell. He eyes a pool of dried vomit in the opposite corner, then looks back at the boy. “You can walk?”

“I—” Hop’s voice sounds hoarse. “Yes. I can walk.” He pushes himself to his feet, swaying a little. Lack of food, sleep, and that blow to the head can’t be doing anything good for his balance. Raihan takes a quick step forward to steady him with a hand on his arm.

Hop stumbles a bit when he moves, so Raihan guides him close to his side so he can hold tight onto him.

“Your brother is here,” Raihan says. He nods to the open door. “You hear all that?”

Immediately, the boy’s eyes light up, if only a little. “Lee’s here?”

“We both came all the way out here,” Raihan replies, moving an arm around Hop’s thin shoulders and giving a little squeeze. “Just to find you.”

Hop takes a shuddering breath, his big eyes beginning to glisten with relieved tears, but he says nothing. Raihan is about to speak once more but is cut off by another distant gunshot, followed by a shout. Which doesn't sound good at all. He can’t tell whose voice it was, but he’s not just going to stand there trying to figure it out.

“Come on,” Raihan says quickly. “Keep close.”

He takes the boy’s hand in his own and practically drags him out of the building, across dirt and grass and sand. Hop lets out little grunts and sharp breaths as he nearly trips over his own feet multiple times, causing Raihan to curse and eventually drop onto one knee.

“On my back. Up you go.”

Hop stares at him incredulously. “Wh—”

“No time to ask questions!” Raihan cuts in, exasperated. He shoots the boy a pointed look over his shoulder. “You can’t keep up by yourself. So get on my back, now.”

The boy seems hesitant, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. They don’t have time to just stand here and twiddle their damn thumbs! Raihan shoots him another sharp glare.

“Now! So I can help your brother!”

Hop lets out a startled sound, but it seems to kick him into action. He stumbles over and climbs onto Raihan’s back, winding his arms around Raihan’s neck while Raihan hooks his hands under the boy’s knees as he rises to his feet. The boy weighs next to nothing to him, even when he sags heavily against Raihan’s back. God, he must be exhausted.

Raihan moves quickly, not caring how much noise his feet make against the ground at this point. Sand kicks up behind him as he runs across the shore, closer and closer to where they left the boat they arrived on. The sound of fighting is louder now, Raihan sees movement out of the corner of his eye. Two figures break out of the bushes, paying attention to no one but each other, but he focuses first on getting Hop onto the boat.

He helps Hop into the boat, making sure his bare, blistered feet don’t touch the cold water. Raihan uses one hand to tip Hop’s chin up, quickly inspecting his dirty face, his split lip, that angry red gash on his brow that will undoubtedly scar. All of this can be treated back on the ship, but they need to get Leon before they can head back to the ship.

“Stay here,” Raihan says, dropping his hands to hold onto Hop’s arms. The boy is shivering, but he isn’t sure if it’s from fear or if it’s from the cold. Raihan shrugs off his coat regardless, draping it around the boy’s shoulders. “The adults can take care of this one.”

Hop nods, and he looks ready to speak, but he catches a glimpse of something over Raihan’s shoulder that makes him freeze, that makes his eyes widen. His voice is a harsh whisper, “Lee.”

Raihan quickly whips his head over his shoulder, finally focusing on the two figures from before. Yes, Leon is there, along with a man that is… a lot larger than him. Leon has blood, likely not his own, splattered over his face, all over his clothes. His sword is dripping with it, stained metal shining in the light of the torches. There are a few tears in his jacket, shallow cuts in his skin, but he sees an ugly gash along Leon’s thigh that’s soaking his ripped trousers with blood.

The other man towers over him, but he’s not without his own injuries. The difference is that Leon, despite the fire in his eyes, still looks exhausted. Unsurprising, given that he’s been fighting off a large group of men all by himself. He’s unsteady on his feet, like he’s dizzy, presumably from the blood loss. But he still stands, he still fights, his blood sword slicing and blocking and parrying. Using his size and speed to his advantage, ducking to narrowly avoid getting his throat cut.

Raihan reaches for his own sword, drawing it swiftly. With how Leon looks right now, Raihan isn’t sure that he can finish this alone. Especially not when—

His eyes widen when he sees the man reaching for his pistol after he knocks Leon off balance. Raihan breathes in deep, his blood pumping, prepared to charge before that bastard can even think of firing, and—

The sword is suddenly being ripped from his hand. Someone moves past him faster than he can process, the metal of the weapon glinting. Raihan blinks, momentarily dazed, then he finally realizes just who stole his weapon, who just ran past him, who is currently charging the enemy.

Despite his own physical state, Hop moves fast. He doesn’t look like he really knows how to wield the sword very well, but that doesn’t stop him. Leon clearly sees him with how his eyes widen, his lips parting to say his name, to likely tell him to stay back, but the boy keeps going.

The blade shoves itself into the man’s back and pierces out through his chest, right through the heart. There is a gasp, a low gurgle as blood begins to dribble from his mouth.

“Don’t… touch my brother,” Hop pants, then pulls the blade out. The wound sprays blood as the man falls to his knees, then slumps onto his side. The light is already gone from his eyes the moment he hits the ground, but Hop doesn’t stop there. The boy stands over the body, both hands on the grip of the sword as he plunges it into him over, and over, and over, spraying and splattering blood all over himself as it spurts from each wound, mixing with the tears streaking down his cheeks. “Don’t! Touch! My! Brother!”

His voice is a hoarse shout, broken up by hiccuping sobs. Leon drops his own sword and rushes forward, catching Hop by the wrist and forcing him to drop the weapon, dragging him back against his chest and falling back onto his rear in the sand.

“Hop, Hop, Hop, that’s enough.” Leon cradles his little brother in his arms like he’s the most delicate thing in the world. Hop holds him like he’s an anchor keeping him tethered there so he won’t float away, face buried in Leon’s arm, smearing more blood across his cheeks. “He’s dead. It’s okay. Calm down. I’m right here.”

Raihan finally manages to move, walking in swift strides across the sand to where the two brothers sit. With a grunt, he rolls the body out of the way, letting it flop uselessly. He doesn’t give a damn what happens now. It can lie there and rot for whenever these bastards’ friends finally return—Raihan assumes there’s more of them than just the motley crew that now lies dead across the island.

He kneels down in front of Leon and Hop but keeps a generous amount of distance. The two only need each other right now, they need to make sure the other is okay. Leon holds tight onto the shaking boy sprawled over his lap.

“I did it, Lee,” Hop rasps into Leon's elbow before his body begins to shake with weak sobs. Tears soak Leon’s torn sleeve. “I did it. Please be proud of me.”

Leon stares down at his brother, odd shock mixing with his frantic worry. One hand comes up to stroke Hop's short hair as the boy trembles and cries. Raihan swallows. It’s not easy to watch.

“I _am_ proud of you, Hop,” Leon says. It's the… gentlest Raihan has ever heard him speak. So achingly tender. “Always. So, so proud of you.”

Raihan realizes just how little he knows of Leon’s relationship with his brother. They’re close, anyone could tell you that, but something about how they interact hints to something else in their past. Something that makes them like this. Truthfully, Raihan knows little of Leon’s life before he turned to piracy. Most know little of it, Leon isn’t exactly open with it—which is smart. You never know who to trust, who could turn that information against you.

“Oi,” Raihan says softly, managing to turn Leon’s attention to him briefly. He drops his voice low, “Was that his first—?”

“Yes,” Leon replies softly, still carding his fingers through Hop’s hair.

That’s never easy, your first kill. Soon the realization will hit Hop that he just took someone’s life. Raihan remembers his first, he remembers the shock that set in, he remembers the tears and the vomiting and the shaking, he remembers his father yelling at him to keep himself together. To not be so _weak,_ because he needs to learn to kill just to survive out here.

Raihan sighs. “Let’s get you both back to the ship. You’re in rough shape.”

Leon stares down at his brother again before he finally says, “Okay.”

Raihan stands and thinks to offer his hand for Leon. Leon considers it, then reaches out to grab onto Raihan’s arm as he drags himself up with Hop in tow. They trudge back to the boat, Hop clearly unbalanced and Leon limping, so Raihan keeps a close watch on them in case either of them collapse. The brothers climb into the boat, Hop finding Raihan’s jacket where he discarded it at the bottom.

With the water splashing around his legs, Raihan gives the boat a shove off of the shore before jumping into it himself, taking his place across from the brothers. They row in silence, Raihan trying not to let his eyes linger on the two too much, letting them have their moment of privacy. Hop leans heavily against Leon’s side as he helps Raihan row, and Leon keeps looking down at him like he’s trying to make sure the boy is still breathing.

The moonlight bounces off of the water once they leave the cave, reflected in the ripping waves, and in the distance the Champion Time waits for them, a dark shadow against the dark blue sky and milky belt of stars.

Leon begins to hum low in his throat as Hop finally starts to doze. Raihan just lets himself listen to it, to the calm waves around them. There are no other sounds besides that, except for his own breathing. Everything about this situation seems too personal, too private, like Raihan really shouldn’t be here.

Once they reach the ship, ropes are tossed over the edge so Leon and Raihan can quickly hook them onto the boat, and the crew works together to pull the small vessel up. Raihan lets Leon and Hop leave first, then steps out after. Crewmen rush the captain and his brother, but Milo shoulders his way through the men just in time to catch them both when they begin to teeter and nearly collapse.

Raihan thinks to join Milo in helping the brothers across the deck, letting Leon put his weight against his side while Milo carries the nearly-unconscious Hop.

The doctor makes quick work of tending to their injuries, but mentions that the inflamed wound on Hop’s brow is already infected, and they can give him medicine to stall it before it gets worse, but they’ll have to get back to Glimwood as quickly as possible.

“He won’t die, will he?” Leon says, and there’s no hiding the frantic tone in his voice even if he tries. He rubs his hand over the bandage over his thigh hiding the sutured wound in his skin. “Tell me he won’t die.”

“Not if we move quickly,” the doctor says. “Turn the ship around now and I’m sure we can get there faster than it took us to get there. He’ll be okay. Your brother will make it through this.”

Leon swallows thickly. Raihan thinks he should maybe reach out, maybe try to comfort him, but he’s really not sure how to. And he doesn’t think it’s entirely welcome, considering everything between them. Leon doesn’t need him right now. So instead he just stands up and quietly takes his leave, hearing the few last bits of conversation as he does. Leon says he and Hop need to wash off, to change into different clothes and have their others repaired. Raihan doesn’t stick around to see.

—

Most of the crew celebrates well into the night while others are doing the damnedest to make sure the ship is going as fast as it can so they can reach Glimwood quickly. Raihan oversees everything with Sonia, as Leon is nowhere in sight.

“Saving his brother is one way to get in the captain’s good graces,” Sonia says offhandedly. Raihan doesn’t respond, keeping his arms folded over his chest. The cold wind tonight is merciless, biting sharply against his nose and cheeks, but he does well not to show his discomfort. So does Sonia, despite her fair complexion being blotchy red from the cold.

Her eyes turn to him, Raihan can feel the weight of her gaze on him even if he doesn’t look at her. Instead, his eyes are turned to the stars which shimmer, glint, flicker high above them. What are the stars, he wonders? Not a thought that often passes his mind, he’s usually too focused on other things. But now, in the dead of night, he can’t help but wonder.

Leon wouldn’t look too out of place among the stars.

“I’m going to bed,” Raihan says. He walks off without waiting for a response, and it isn’t until he’s halfway to the crew’s quarters that something crosses his mind. Raihan stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder to where he knows the captain’s quarters are. Would it be too much of an intrusion to go see him tonight? Would Leon even want to see him? Yes, Raihan helped save his brother, but the last time he set foot in his quarters it ended in a rather nasty quarrel that Raihan thinks he should probably apologize for.

Though his pride would get in the way before he could even get those words out.

Against his better judgment, Raihan turns on his heel and walks towards Leon’s quarters, glad that he passes no crewmen on his way there that might question what he’s doing. It’s none of their business. Neither he nor Leon want the others to know what’s going on between them. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going there to fuck, he just wants… to see how Leon is. If Leon is okay. Since when did he start worrying about Leon’s well-being?

It’s likely because he’s struggling to imagine a life without a rival now that he’s found one. Leon is a mystery, a challenge, something that keeps him on his toes. It’s selfish that he only worries because of that, but despite his giving nature, Raihan is very much a selfish man in the end.

He pauses outside of the door, considering knocking first, but decides against it. Slowly, he pushes the door open, his mouth opening so he can say something, but the words stop halfway up his throat at the sight before him. Leon lying across his bed, eyes closed, with his little brother tucked close to his side. They’re both clean of grime, sweat, and blood, in a fresh change of clothes.

Leon’s eyes crack open slightly, before opening all the way when he realizes who is standing there in the doorway. Their eyes meet for a few moments and Raihan nearly turns to leave right then and there, but instead he steps inside long enough to fish around in his pocket. From within, he pulls out the amulet Leon had given him before, placing it on the desk. He says nothing, just meets Leon’s eyes again and gives a slow nod.

After a moment, the nod is returned.

Raihan turns and leaves.

—

It’s two days into their voyage back to Glimwood, and Raihan hasn’t said a word to Leon the entire time. He thinks that maybe he should, but he isn’t entirely sure what there is to say. He’s been turning an apology over and over in his mind about that one night, debating whether or not to say it because— wasn’t saving his brother enough? Even though he didn’t save Hop purely to get on Leon’s good side, he saved Hop because he couldn’t sit idly by while a child was in danger. He couldn’t give a damn about being on Leon’s good side. If he did, things would be a lot different.

He sets a heavy crate down below deck, then proceeds to tug his bandanna loose so he can wipe the sweat from his brow. Raihan takes a moment to catch his breath and roll his shoulders. At least there isn’t a shortage of things to do, Leon does a good job at making sure at least _most_ of the crew is busy, and Raihan isn’t going to just sit and do nothing. He may as well help where he can.

Milo sets down two sacks of sugar beside the crate and gives Raihan a grin, his soft face tinged red from the sun. From the short time they’ve known one another, Raihan’s decided he rather likes Milo. He’s kind, which is a rarity, he’s a hard worker, and he cares for the crew. You wouldn’t guess from his gentle face and soft voice the kind of life he leads now; apparently he doesn’t even like to fight that much, either, and prefers taking care of the men and women on board than taking lives.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since the other day,” Milo says, patting Raihan on the arm, just below where he has his shirt sleeves rolled up. “Something been bothering you, captain?”

“You can just call me Raihan,” he replies. “I’m not the captain here.”

“Okay, Raihan.” Milo wipes at the sweat on his neck. “Has something been bothering you?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” Raihan says, shoving his bandanna in his pocket. A few of his locs hang loosely in front of his forehead. “There’s plenty on my mind, I just don’t think it’s important enough to bring up.”

Milo hums. Not for the first time, Raihan takes note of their almost comical difference in height, especially when Milo cranes his head up to look him in the eye. It’s hard to resist the urge to ruffle that head of red hair.

“Do you want to talk to him? The captain, I mean.” _That_ catches Raihan by surprise. He stares at Milo, and his shock must be evident. His silence gives everything away. Milo tilts his head, inquisitive. “He’s really worried about his brother right now, but I’m sure he’d appreciate some conversation. Especially since you were there with him.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to ta—”

“I think,” Milo interrupts, “You should stop assuming what he wants or thinks and just ask him yourself.”

 _Yeah, sound advice Milo,_ Raihan thinks bitterly. That’s just assuming everyone is going to be honest about their thoughts and feelings, and it’s dangerous for people like them to be so open about that with one another. He and Leon hardly know anything about one another outside of their bodies, and Raihan didn’t care enough to try to learn more even though he had the _chance._ He knows he’s being unreasonable, he’s accepted that, but it’s a bit easier than facing this particular problem head-on. Emotions aren’t his strong suit, it isn’t something you can just magically fix. He’s a smooth talker, can charm his way out of almost everything, except for… this.

“You’re not going to do it, are you,” Milo sighs.

“Probably not.”

“I figured as much.” Milo claps him on the arm again. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

Raihan just lets out a little grunt. Milo shrugs, turning around and walking off to return to his work. Raihan stretches his arms over his head as much as he can without them touching the wooden boards above. Up top, he can hear crewmen walking along the deck; a few beams of sunlight shine in through the cracks, with some shadows cutting through them on occasion. There is chatter, but he doesn’t stop to really listen.

The kid is out there now. It’s the first day since his rescue that he’s left his or Leon’s quarters, and the crew was more than ecstatic to have him back. Raihan considered stopping to talk to him, just to see how he’s holding up, assuming Hop would even want to talk to him. It might be awkward, who knows? But he thinks he’s more willing to talk to him than his older brother.

He pushes his locs out of his face and takes a moment to tie them back again. Finally, he makes his way up to the deck again. The sun shines brightly and the water is calm, but the cold air makes the sweat on his body feel ice-cold. Raihan breathes in deep through his teeth as he gets used to the feeling. On the quarter deck he sees that unmistakable mane of purple hair, and Raihan thinks to go to him, but he sees Leon is already in deep conversation with Sonia.

On the other end of the deck he sees another head of purple hair, looking out over the sea, alone for the moment. Raihan looks back towards Leon, and then towards Hop. After a moment of thought, debating whether or not it’s worth it, he decides it is. With quick strides, he moves across the deck to where Hop stands. The boy doesn’t acknowledge him at first, his golden eyes trained on the horizon.

The gash above his eye is covered in a thin layer of bandages; Raihan isn’t sure how it must look right now, but he can’t imagine it’s very pretty. Hopefully whatever medicine they’re putting on it is enough to keep the infection at bay for now, but that will only work for so long. The boy looks tired, still, but much brighter than before now that he’s gotten food and sleep. Standing there on the deck, in the sunlight, his hair ruffled by the breeze, he really does look so much like his brother.

When Hop finally looks up at him, a bright grin spreads across his face— _just like Leon’s._

“Are you… okay?” Raihan speaks first, a little sheepish. “You were all alone, I figured your brother would be watching you like a hawk.”

“He has been, but Sonia got his attention off me for a bit,” Hop replies, nodding towards where Leon is still speaking with the woman in question. “Teamwork, you know.”

Raihan can’t help his little laugh. It’s good to see the boy looking so much more… alive. He doesn’t look scared anymore, he isn’t covered in filth, and while he still has heavy bags under his eyes he doesn’t seem as _exhausted._ Still, Raihan knows that what happened will likely stay with him for a long time. Maybe for the rest of his life. Getting kidnapped, refused food and sleep, and then killing a man for the first time in a fit of panic and rage.

(Raihan had unfortunately bore witness to the crying and vomiting that came after, when the realization really set in.)

At least he’ll have his brother there for him.

“And… I’m okay,” Hop finally says, turning his eyes away. “Out of everyone I expected to save me, you weren’t one of them.”

That’s… well, that isn’t unexpected for him to think. From what Hop likely knows, Raihan holds nothing but ill will for his older brother. In fact, he expected Hop to dislike him from the start. But Hop doesn’t look at him with any sort of disdain, no; he looks at him with shining eyes, with admiration and gratefulness shimmering beneath the golden surface. Raihan doesn’t feel like he deserves to be looked at like that, it makes him want to shrink back and scurry away. He’s no good, he’s rotten, even if he always wants to help. He doesn’t deserve—

“But I’m thankful no matter what!” Suddenly, Hop’s hand is in his. The difference in size is funny. Raihan takes in the difference between Hop and Leon: Hop is small, barely any muscle to him, but he’s still so young, he has time to grow. At this rate he might even grow taller than his own brother! “Lee told me you found someone who knew who took me, and were able to get the information, and if you hadn’t help I might have— they could have— ki—”

“No need to dwell on that,” Raihan cuts in, giving Hop’s hand a squeeze when he realizes it’s started quivering. “What matters is you’re here, you’re alive. We’re going to be at Glimwood soon and we can get that cut of yours proper medicine. How’s that nasty thing feeling anyway?”

“Still hurts,” Hop admits. “Throbs a lot, but I don’t say anything because Lee already worries enough. I can make it to Glimwood, though. I know I can.”

It worries _Raihan,_ though. He can only hope they’re not too late in getting treatment for the infection and that the infection hasn’t started spreading. Hop says he can make it, Hop tries to prove he’s strong and Raihan believes he _is,_ he wouldn’t have survived his capture and imprisonment if he wasn’t, but he still can’t help his concern.

“Just don’t be alone,” Raihan says. “I know you don’t want anyone fussing over you, but you have to understand why. Everyone just wants you to be all right.”

“I know,” Hop sighs. “I know. Lee said the same thing.” He manages a little laugh. “Now I’m starting to feel like I have _two_ big brothers.”

That makes Raihan’s heart do something he doesn’t really like, even if it _is_ a pleasant feeling. He shouldn’t get too attached, it’s unlikely he’ll ever cross paths with Hop again long enough after all of this is over. But maybe he’ll have a chance to see Hop get bigger, to see him get stronger. To become his own man. Even if he has to witness it from afar.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.” Raihan pulls his hand away from Hop’s so he can ruffle the boy’s hair. “There’s two other children we brought along, they helped find you, too. Around your age, most likely. Maybe have a chat with them?”

“Oh. Victor and Gloria? They did come ‘round earlier to say hello. We’re gonna have a round of cards later.” Hop grins up at him again. “I don’t really meet a lot of people my age. It’d be good to have…” He trails off, his smile falling, and the next word is breathed out in a hushed whisper, “Friends.”

Raihan can’t help but smile. “Yeah. Go and find them again, I think they’re down below. Have a bit of fun, okay?”

Hop laughs. “Okay.” He draws back and turns around, practically skipping across the deck.

Raihan turns his head to look back over the vast expanse of ocean. The cold breeze makes him shiver. Everything feels cold, not just the air. His blood, his heart, every single emotion chilled. Raihan slowly pulls his bandanna out of his pocket again and ties it around his head.

He gets back to work.

He still doesn’t talk to Leon, but he catches a glimpse of the captain watching him from afar more than once.

It’s better to ignore it.

—

Raihan wakes up the next morning to a commotion up above. He blinks the sleep from his eyes with a low groan, his head aching a bit, and practically rolls out of the hammock right onto the floor. He manages to catch himself just in time, and feels around for his coat and his boots which he pulls on slowly, his body still working on waking up.

He rubs his eyes with his palms, then makes his way out of the crew’s quarters, managing to not drag his feet along the way. Raihan steps onto the upper deck, hit with a sudden gust of wind that nearly knocks him off his feet.

In the middle of the deck he spots Leon, who is kneeling down, hunched over someone. Sonia and Milo are at his side, talking in low, hurried words. And even from here, Raihan can see that Leon is trembling. Daringly, he walks a little closer, now fully alert.

What he sees before him makes his stomach turn. It’s Hop, lying in Leon’s lap, and at first Raihan thinks he might be dead, but then he sees the boy’s chest rising and falling in quick, labored breaths. Some of the crew are talking lowly amongst themselves, about how the boy just _dropped_ without warning. Sonia rests her palm over the boy’s forehead, Raihan manages to pick up her saying something about a fever.

 _The infection’s already spread,_ he hears Milo murmur. _We need to move faster._

“We’re too late,” Leon manages to say, not without a quiver in his voice. “We’re too late, he’s going to— he’s—”

He hugs his brother close to his chest. “Hop, stay with me. Stay with me.”

Then he hears Leon say something that nearly knocks all the breath from his lungs.

“I can’t lose you, too.”

“Get him to the doctor,” Milo says softly. “Come on. He’ll live. He’ll be okay. Don’t give up on him.”

They barely notice the dense fog that begins to settle around the ship, they barely notice the tall, sharp rocks jutting out of the dark water, the ship just barely managing to avoid crashing straight into them. All attention is on the sick, barely conscious boy in their captain’s arms. Their captain whose strong front is rapidly beginning to crumble as he shakes, as his eyes fill with unshed tears.

In the distance, there is a haunting melody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :,3c sorry
> 
> hope you guys caught the reference to an earlier chapter!
> 
> someone: gives raihan good advice  
> raihan: i hear you but im going to ignore this for another 2 years
> 
> i promise raihan becomes less of an asshole over time lmao i know how much everyone wants to knee him in the balls right now. there will be some understanding... eventually... when they both stop being stupid
> 
> more art!!! thank you guys so much!
> 
> a sexy leon by kibadan2411 on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/kibadan2411/status/1258984666067095557)! mild nsfw warning for boobage.
> 
> thank you guys for the continued support, i always appreciate it so much, and i'm sorry the update schedule's gotten so... bad. but you all know how everything's been. i hope you're all doing what you can to take care of yourselves.
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew what it was like being an elder brother, wanting to be there for his sibling, wanting to protect them but— _you can’t protect them from everything, can you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words hung above, but never would form,  
> [like a cry at the final breath that is drawn.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWLqdAJbu0A)
> 
> ( warning for brief mention of attempted rape/csa.  
> this chapter contains explicit sexual content. )

He’s thirteen-years-old. The clothes on his body are loose and dirty, he can’t remember when he last washed them—when he last washed himself. Sometimes people were kind enough to let him and his brother use their baths, taking pity on the poor children, though they always cast them out after a single meal, leaving them to fend for themselves all over again.

Sometimes, however, especially kind people would let them spend a night in a warm bed, huddled close together under a soft blanket with only the glow of a single candle to illuminate the room. Sometimes, their sons would get too curious about the “girl” asleep in the extra bed. Too curious, too daring. Leon remembers a hand grabbing his leg, a man trying to pin him down; and he remembers taking his father’s dagger and plunging it into that hand before grabbing his little brother and escaping into the night. This happened more than once.

At least they went after him and not the boy that was asleep beside him.

He often forgoes his meals to instead let the boy have them; when it’s cold, Hop always gets the ruddy coat they have; when Leon steals money, he always spends it on things for _Hop._ And when Hop sleeps, he spends hours awake, watching over him until exhaustion finally takes him.

It’s a rough life, but he’s okay so long as his brother is.

Hop doesn’t understand, and maybe he never will. He'll never be thrust into the position Leon was, acting as both the older sibling and parent. And Leon himself, he’s still a child, but he feels so far from it that it’s always a shock when someone treats him as such.

He’s still a child, but he can’t afford to act like one.

Thirteen-years-old when he meets the people who change his life forever, who introduce him to a life at sea, whose quarrel is not with the common folk—but with the men who ruined his life.

With his hand in Hop’s as they step onto the ship, faced with an old man with long, thick brows and sharp canines, he whispers to the boy, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

—

The boy in his arms is limp as the dead, but his body still burns hot. Leon lifts a shaking hand to his forehead, fingers brushing over the bandages that cover the infected wound. The skin is sweaty, and Hop’s breathing is coming out in shallow gasps. He must have been hiding how he was feeling since he was rescued, he must not have wanted Leon to worry even more, but maybe they could have done something faster if Leon just _knew—_

_Damn it, Hop!_

Cora has appeared, whimpering and sniffing at the barely conscious boy and trying to lick his cheek. Milo is nudging him, telling him to take Hop below deck to the doctor, his voice gentle. Leon feels frozen to the spot. Sonia, kneeling before him, reaches out to touch his arm and he nearly jerks back as if he’s been burned. Leon snaps his eyes up to her, wide and frantic. He needs to move, doesn’t he? He needs to get Hop to someone who can help, maybe keep him stable until they reach Glimwood because they only have a day to go. Hop can make it another day, he _has_ to, and when they get there he’ll go straight to the wizard because she can do more than the doctor there.

Behind him, he can sense a large, familiar presence. Raihan isn’t saying anything, but his gaze is burning holes in the back of Leon’s head, but Leon can’t look at him. He hugs Hop tighter, tries to will himself to move but he can’t, and he must be looking so weak in front of his crew right now but damn if that isn’t low on his list of worries.

As a heavy fog settles around them, the wood behind him creaks under a large weight and a hand lands on his shoulder.

“Leon,” Raihan’s voice sounds low in his ear. Leon flinches. “If you don’t move, he could die.”

Something about it—Raihan’s words, or maybe just the sound of his voice—is enough to kick Leon into action.

He sheds his coat quickly, ignoring the biting cold from the winter air and the fog, and bundles his brother up in it. Leon pushes himself up to his feet, lifting Hop with him, feeling Raihan’s hand move from his shoulder to his arm to keep him steady. The sound in the distance is beginning to properly register now, a deep melody that tugs at something within him, urging him to follow. He knows well enough what it is, but he doesn’t give in. The boy in his arms is more important.

The love he has for his brother is enough to break a siren’s spell.

Leon allows himself a glance around. A few members of his crew look slightly dazed, but after their last encounter with a siren, they’ve come to know what to expect, how to close their minds off to its power. If they’re lucky, no one will lose control and throw themselves overboard into the dark abyss below. That siren before wasn’t even aiming to kill them, anyway. What a messy misunderstanding that was.

He turns around, meeting Raihan’s sharp gaze… which is lacking most of its usual hardness. In fact, he looks more concerned than anything, especially when his eyes flicker down to the boy in Leon’s arms. Some distance behind him, he can see Victor and Gloria looking on with what seems to be some sort of odd shock and horror. There is a sick feeling in his gut. They shouldn’t have to be seeing this, they’re too young, but wasn’t he younger than they were the first time he was subjected to something like this?

“Come on, everyone below deck, let’s—”

“Leon,” Sonia’s voice is a sharp hiss, causing Leon to halt mid-step. Why is she stopping him now? She knows how dire the situation is, she knows they can’t afford to waste time, so why is she—

He notices the singing has stopped. Then he notices the heavy sound of wings beating above them. Cora’s turns, hackles raised, ears pressed back as she snarls. Leon doesn’t tell her to heel.

Something, some _one_ breaks through the fog which swirls around their wings and lands on the deck with a thud. Leon whips around to look at the intruder, realizing he can’t reach his sword like this, but he hears someone behind him draw their own.

The creature in front of them rises to her full height. She’s about the size of a young teenage girl, and if it weren’t for the feathers on her cheeks and in her dark hair she might even look like a normal one from the shoulders up. The siren shakes her wings out, scattering a few stray black feathers across the deck. A few red ones fall from her head.

_Is she molting all over my ship?_

Bright blue eyes scan over the members of the crew that are staring her down before they finally land on the captain and his brother. It takes her only a moment to look over them, then she’s stepping forward, dark talons tapping against the wood.

“You met my brother,” she says to Leon. “I remember.”

Then she looks over Leon’s shoulder to where Raihan stands. “You, too.”

“Piers?” Leon and Raihan say in unison. Leon throws Raihan a look and Raihan appears a little sheepish.

“No time t’ introduce myself,” she says. Her voice is very soft, almost shy, and he wouldn’t have ever guessed she was the sister of the siren he nearly killed after having been lured into its territory. He had been aware they would have passed the siren’s territory but never expected they’d find themselves in it again. Some choice words with the navigator may be in order, but he has other things to concern himself with. “Your brother—he’s sick? ‘ve been followin’ you lot for a bit, once I noticed ya gettin’ too close to the territory.”

“Yes, he’s sick, and he might d—”

“No, he’s not gonna die.” The girl—siren—reaches out slowly. When her hand touches Hop’s forehead, the boy shivers, but his expression seems a little less strained. Leon looks down at him, then back up at her with confusion alight in his eyes. She tilts her head to the side curiously. “Y’know my brother ‘n’ the rest of my family are harmless. Uh—mostly, at least. We can help. Will ya let us?”

How can he trust a siren? Just because Piers didn’t intentionally lure them in before (he remembers for a brief moment the flash of fear in pale green eyes when Leon nearly drove a sword straight into his heart), just because his whole family didn’t try to eat his crew alive before, doesn’t mean it won’t be different this time. But… what if it isn’t? What if it’s fine? What if they can help? Leon has no clue how the medicine of sirens works, if they even use it or if they simply rely on their magic, but…

The girl’s shark-like tail thumps impatiently against the wood. “Hurry!”

Raihan nudges him again. “Be careful, but just do it.”

Leon swallows, looks the girl in the eye, and nods.

Her smile is tiny but relieved. “I’ll lead th’ way,” she says. “Tell your men t’ follow me.”

So he does—he bites out a sharp command for Samuel to keep his eye on the siren as she takes off from the deck in a flurry of dark feathers that scatter across the ship. Leon keeps his iron grip on his brother as he turns and walks to the stairs leading below deck. He wants to keep Hop out of the cold as much as he can, and even if the doctor can't do too much they can still do _something._

Sonia stays above deck with Milo to keep an eye on things. As Leon is about to descend, he notices Raihan watching him with a look that tells Leon that he isn't sure if he should stay or follow.

Leon just gives him a little nod, silent permission that he can join him if he wants to. He doesn’t wait for Raihan’s reaction, instead walking below deck with his brother in his arms. Even though his hands tremble, he tries to remain steady. Strong for his brother, strong for everyone else.

The doctor soaks a rag in a bucket of cool water to place over Hop’s forehead. When the bandages are peeled away Leon can hardly look at the angry, swollen red gash over his brother’s brow. Hop tenses when the rag touches it, but sags again immediately after. Leon wants to look somewhere else, anywhere else, but he forces himself to keep his eyes on his brother. _Stay strong, for him._

He is aware of Raihan having finally joined them, but the man is keeping his distance, watching from afar. Is he concerned, too? Or is he here because he felt obligated? He had been so good with Hop, gentle and kind in a way Leon only sees Raihan as with anyone but him. Leon breathes out a sigh, carding his fingers through Hop’s hair in what he hopes is a soothing gesture.

When there is chatter above again, the feeling of the boat lurching to a stop, Leon knows it’s time to return. He wipes at Hop’s face before he’s gathering him back up into his arms and brushing past Raihan to return to the deck.

He’s been here before, this island—entirely by accident, of course, his crew having been drawn in by the siren’s song. Leon had nearly killed the one they seemed to view as their leader, but with enough persuasion had spared his life. He knew what it was like being an elder brother, wanting to be there for his sibling, wanting to protect them but— _you can’t protect them from everything, can you?_

Leon looks down at Hop and swallows.

The girl from before is nowhere in sight, but he can feel the weight of many pairs of eyes on him, on the ship, and when he looks out across the water a few heads of brightly colored hair disappear beneath the surface. He has to wonder if this is even a good idea, they could have just led them here to die, this could all just be some elaborate trap. But if they had wanted them dead, they would have killed him and his crew upon their very first encounter.

A few moments later, there is the sound of heavy wing beats once more. Two of them this time. The fog has already dispersed, so he has no trouble seeing the approaching creatures as they descend onto the deck.

Piers is, for the most part, careful to not ruin the wood with his talons; his sister tries but leaves some scratches in her wake. It’s been some time, but Piers hasn’t really changed one bit from what Leon remembers. Still looking perpetually exhausted, dark shadows under his eyes, mouth drawn into a frown; skin pale, face narrow and angular, framed by dark feathers.

“I told both of you,” Piers begins, “you come around again, I might not help.”

Leon and Raihan share a glance, brows raised, then look back at the siren.

“But here I am,” he sighs heavily, “helping you again.”

Pale green eyes flicker down to the boy in Leon’s arms. They focus on the wound across his brow, then turn up to meet Leon’s gaze. Thin brows furrow before the siren is moving closer, talons clicking against the deck.

“No time to waste,” Piers says, reaching both arms out expectantly. Leon stares at him, right into his eyes, and grips onto his brother tighter. Hesitant to hand him over, suspicious, scared he could be sending his brother to his death. The siren lets out an irritated sound. “The way you’re acting, it’s almost like you don’t want him to be s—”

“Fine,” Leon grits out. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, what can a siren do for them right now? What magic do they wield that can cure an infection that came on so fast, so unexpected, wearing his brother down to the point he could very well die? But he can’t just stand there and twiddle his thumbs hoping for a miracle, because miracles just… don’t exist. He needs to be realistic, and if that involves surrendering his brother to these creatures because they insist they can help…

Careful not to jostle Hop, he hands the boy over to the siren who, despite his thin frame, the apparent lack of muscle, carries him with ease. Hop lets out a soft groan and Leon wants to reach out, to comfort, but Piers is turning away.

“Marnie,” he hears Piers say to his sister. That’s her name? “Stay here.”

“Mmhm,” Marnie hums.

Without another word, Piers takes off, leaving the ship with Leon’s brother in his arms. Leon stares after him, finds himself walking quickly to the railing of the ship so he can watch as the siren disappears into the thick line of trees. Trembling hands grip the rails tightly, his throat feels tight.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Marnie says from behind him. “He might not look it, but my brother’s real good at healin’, takin’ care of others.”

“How long will it take?” Leon manages to ask.

“A day?” Marnie’s wings flutter, a few more feathers scattering around her. She’s beside him now, so much smaller than him. “He’s thorough. Will wanna make sure he’s fixed everythin’, y’know?”

Leon doesn’t respond.

Raihan, however, finally decides to speak, “So you’re the one keeping watch, then? Making sure we don’t cause trouble?”

“Guess so.” Marnie climbs onto the railing and perches there. “I know you won’t, though.”

“How do you know?” Raihan challenges. “We’re—”

“Pirates, yeah.” She tilts her head. “But ya aren’t that foolish, you’ll be on your _best behavior_.”

For a kid, she sure is confident. It reminds him a little bit of Gloria, even though he barely knows her as well. Speaking of which, where did those kids go? Leon looks over his shoulder, spotting the twins doing their best to occupy themselves by helping clean off the deck. They keep throwing looks his way, though. Worried looks. He thinks he should talk to them, maybe, but he doesn’t know what he’d say, so he leaves it for now.

Turning from the railing, he meets Raihan’s gaze again. Those blue eyes bore into him, before turning away. Leon finds himself wanting Raihan to look at him again, to do— _something._ He doesn’t know what, but _something_ to chase every bad thought away from his mind. Maybe he wants to be held, or… he doesn’t know.

He instead steels himself and barks out the command to drop the anchor, they’ll be staying here for the day and possibly the night. The crew seems confused, skeptical, but a piercing look from their captain spurs them into action.

Leon drags a hand over his face; it’s still shaking. No matter how much he tries to will it to stop, it won’t, and he curses himself silently for showing so much weakness, especially in front of his crew. In front of his brother, even if he was unconscious. In front of Raihan. He throws a look towards the aforementioned man, only to find his eyes on him again. Their gazes meet for a few long moments before Leon turns his head away.

Part of him is tempted to leave the ship and wander the island, but he knows that’s just a recipe for disaster—he’ll get himself lost and likely will have to get those sirens to guide him back. But the atmosphere on the ship is so suffocatingly tense, he feels like he can hardly breathe, worsening every moment that he stands here. If he holes himself up in his cabin, it may just look like another sign of weakness.

“You think so much,” Marnie speaks up again, causing him to whip his head back towards her. “Go lie down, relax, somethin’. You’re makin’ _me_ nervous!”

“She’s right,” Raihan says. “Your brother’s hurt. No one’s going to think any worse of you if you step away.”

 _But what about you?_ Leon can’t help but think, and he wants to say it but can’t really get the words out. Why should he worry about what Raihan thinks of him, though? Especially now. That worry eats at him regardless. Maybe he really does understand— he did say he has no siblings but has someone who is like a sibling.

But, why has Raihan been so strangely comforting this past week? Even after their fight in Leon’s cabin, something about his presence has been so grounding. He shouldn’t get used to it. Ultimately, it means nothing.

Leon squints at Raihan, then looks back at Marnie, who blinks owlishly at him.

“Fine,” he huffs out. Straightening his spine, he begins to walk, brushing right past Raihan. The brief contact feels a little like a shock, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. Cora, bless her heart, follows after him closely, her tail wagging anxiously. No one says anything to him on the way to his cabin, thank God, and the door shuts with a heavy slam behind him.

Alone in his cabin, he feels cold, and not because of his lack of coat. His blood is like ice, his whole body breaks out into tremors. Leon doesn’t even make it to the bed, he simply goes onto one knee and hugs himself tightly. Thick hair makes a curtain around his face, hiding the tears that now flow freely from the rest of the world.

Cora nuzzles against his shoulder with a whine. He manages to place a shaky hand on her, rubbing into red fur in an effort to soothe himself. Then he loops an arm around her and turns so he can bury his face into her fur, soaking it with tears, muffling his little gasps and sobs.

He’s already cried so much the past week, so much that it’s almost embarrassing. What must his crew think, he wonders? So many see him as untouchable, unreachable, so far beyond any man but he- he _is_ a man, he’s so agonizingly human and he can’t stand it. In the face of adversity he is always so fierce and determined, nothing can knock him down, but this time he can’t help but— he can’t— he—

The image of Hop, limp in his arms, flashes through his mind again. Leon thinks he might be sick, bile rising fast in his throat, sour, and burning the back of his tongue. He swallows it down with a gag, hands fisting tight into his dog’s fur. Cora whines again, her tail wagging. Leon allows himself a few more little sobs before he finally pulls away, wiping at his wet face with the sleeve of his shirt and sniffling.

It’s cold. Hop has his coat, which is fine, Leon can stand a bit of cold. Or he thinks he can, because suddenly that cold seems like too much, making the tremors of his body even harder, goosebumps rising along his arms. Slowly, he stands up, making his way towards the bed where he snatches up the thin blanket there.

Even if it was a few nights ago, there is still a lingering scent on the blanket that isn’t his own. Among the smell of the sea, he can smell something that reminds him of wood burning; not like a wildfire, but like a camp, where you’d watch the fire rise into the night sky, warm and comfortable.

Warm and safe.

Leon’s eyes flicker towards the cabin door like he’s expecting something—or someone. Then they turn to the desk, where that heavy book is open on the page he left off at. With a heavy, shaky sigh, he wraps the blanket around his shoulders and sits himself down at the desk. The crew needs their captain, but they need their captain at his best. If he can focus, get his mind on something else, then maybe he can bring himself to face them again.

He thinks he spends hours there, hunched over that book, fingers tracing over words printed on rough pages. Leon writes down words, sentences, reads aloud to himself softly until the words begin to blur together and he knows he needs to give his eyes a rest. And his wrist, which is beginning to ache.

As if on cue, there is a soft knock on the door.

Sonia pokes her head in. Their gazes meet, and Leon thinks he should smile, but his face isn’t really doing what he wants it to.

“I was… studying,” Leon says with a hoarse laugh. The book is dog-eared and carefully shut. He rests the quill in the jar of ink.

“You look a proper mess, Leon,” Sonia says as she steps inside. The door closes behind her. Her boots click against the wood below as she makes her way over to him, concern shining in her eyes. Everyone is always so _concerned,_ Leon can’t stand it. He’s fine, he’ll be fine, there is nothing to be worried about. “You haven’t even eaten! And you rarely ever miss a meal!”

“I apologize. You know how I get when…” Leon looks down. “When I’m stuck in my own head.”

Sonia sighs. Her smile is tiny, subdued. When she reaches out to touch his shoulder, he lets her. The weight of her hand is comforting, in a way.

“Sometimes I wonder if I care too much,” Leon says, his voice weak. “About others.”

About Hop, about Sonia, about his whole crew, and about—

“I can’t say if you do or not.” She settles down in the other small, wooden chair beside him. “But even if you do, well… it’s gotten us out of a lot of pain and trouble. I wouldn’t be sitting here if you didn’t care the way you do.”

Leon can’t help but smile. Sonia Magnolia, the little noble girl who ran from a future that didn’t suit her, right into a life that he’s sure she was told horror stories about as she grew up. Don’t let the pirates take you, they often say. But she had only been fourteen, spending so many days longing for a freer life, betrothed to a much older man she didn’t love, because he was nothing compared to the sight of a blush on a pretty woman’s cheeks or a sparkle in her eyes.

_“I wanted to write a book, but that wasn’t “proper” for a young lady,” she tells him, stroking the fur of her fuzzy companion. They’re fifteen now, soft-faced and wide-eyed. “I just had to learn to be something I wasn’t.”_

_“Well, it might not be easy, but maybe you could write a book while you’re here,” Leon suggests. “There’s a lot to write about!”_

_Sonia beams at him. “I’ll think about it.”_

If it weren’t for Leon and his giant heart, who pushed and pushed for the crew and then-captain to accept a new, unlikely addition, she may have been caught and forced back into her old life. Sonia never really seemed the type for a noble life—she’s pretty, certainly, but far too stubborn to sit and be proper and obedient at all times. Kind, clever, one of the smartest people he knows. And she treats Hop just like a little brother, too. He knows she’s just as worried, even if she won’t show it.

Leon tries so hard to be strong for everyone, but she’s trying to be strong for him.

“Do you miss your family?” Leon can’t help but ask—anything to get his mind off of the current situation.

Sonia smiles, and maybe it’s a little sad.

“I miss my nan,” she replies. “Sometimes. We didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but she understood me better than anyone else.”

Family has always been a sore subject for Sonia, as much as it is for Leon. They don’t talk about it much, he doesn’t really get why he had to ask in the first place. But it’s quiet, they’re close, no one else is around to listen. There is understanding between them, something he rarely shares with others.

“You should eat, Leon,” Sonia finally says, quickly changing the subject. “Cook decided to use the salted fish before it went bad. I even helped him a bit.”

His stomach growls in response. Leon laughs sheepishly. “Well, I _do_ enjoy your cooking.”

Sonia huffs, a smile pulling at her lips. As they rise from their seats, Leon rolls his sore wrist, breathes in, and then follows her out.

—

The meal would have gone by just fine, with as less stress as possible given current circumstances, if it weren’t for the man who decided to sit right next to him as they ate.

The way Raihan eats is surprisingly… proper, polite. It’s kind of confusing, and Leon is hit with the realization yet again that as well as he knows his body, he doesn’t know much about the man himself. He knows he has no siblings, or at least not that he knows of; he has a dog, too; he can read, and he has been a part of this life for longer than Leon has. The way he eats kind of reminds him of how Sonia does, though she’s gotten a little messier over the years. Leon tilts his head to one side but decides not to dwell on it for the time being.

Still, he can’t stop casting glances towards him out of the corner of his eye. It’s hard not to, given how close Raihan is to him. Like he’s intentionally trying to drive Leon insane. Because he still radiates warmth, that familiar woodsy smell, and Leon wants to burrow in close and get lost in it. How would Raihan’s embrace feel, he wonders? If he held Leon close purely because he wanted to?

The siren, Marnie, is still nearby, watching them while devouring what looks like… part of a shark? Leon doesn’t want to think about it; he’s killed plenty of things, but something about watching something tear apart another thing with sharp talons and fangs nauseates him. Victor and Gloria, who seem to have taken a liking to her, remain nearby, however. She talks to them between mouthfuls, licking blood off of her lips. Gloria looks positively delighted.

Leon wants to ask Marnie just what goes on in the healing process, if there are any after effects, if Hop will be the same after. He doesn’t know what keeps him from asking, maybe he’s just scared of the answer he’ll get.

It must be something to do with their songs. Sirens are capable of many kinds of magic, all woven into their melodies. They are not to be trifled with so easily. Leon’s eyes flicker back to Raihan, then glance down at his legs where he knows still-healing wounds are hidden beneath the dark fabric of his trousers. Raihan had refused to give an answer when Leon asked about them before. The other man’s bitter words ring clear in his mind: _You don’t care anyway._

 _But I_ do _care._

“What are you looking at?” Raihan’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts and Leon meets his gaze. For once, he’s embarrassed and flounders a little before he can properly respond.

“I was just— curious.” Leon swallows one last gulp of broth, tearing his eyes away. They aren’t alone, a few other crew members are with them and Sonia keeps giving him a _look._ He can’t just bring up what he saw before, not without there being questions from others.

“Whatever it is, don’t concern yourself over it.” Raihan turns back to his own meal. Leon bites back a sigh. Raihan is so kind to everyone but him, but he knows he hasn’t imagined the concern the man sometimes shows. The concern for Leon. It’s the start of something, surely.

The sun is already setting; have they really been here that long? Time must move so quickly around here, or he was so absorbed in his studies and his thoughts he didn’t really notice its passage. He should be retiring to his cabin soon, even though he doubts he’ll sleep. The worry, the stress, and the fact they’re in the territory of creatures that could easily rip them to shreds make it hard to get a good night’s sleep.

He wants to check on Hop before he sleeps, but he doesn’t want to meddle. Leon starts glancing towards Marnie now, watching as she gnaws on a bone. She catches his eye once but goes back to whatever she was talking about with the twins, a clear sign that there isn’t really anything to say to him. He’s left entirely in the dark now. It’s frustrating, not knowing anything.

The crew begins to disperse, some of them being slow with drowsiness, while others go about their last-minute duties before the sun sets entirely and it’s too dark to see anything. Leon glances at Raihan again; he hasn’t moved from his place next to Leon yet. Sonia squints at them both before she rises as well, Cora in tow.

Leon decides he’s going to go as well. But before he does, he lightly brushes his hand over Raihan’s wrist. The touch makes Raihan stiffen up, eyes darting back to Leon. It’s a quiet invitation. Leon doesn’t have to say anything. He just stands and leaves, keeping his head high and his gait steady.

The cabin door shuts with a thud behind him. He pulls off his boots and considers ridding himself of his clothes already, but he decides to wait patiently at the foot of his bed.

A few minutes later, the door opens again. No knock. It lets him know immediately who it is.

His invitation was accepted. Leon feels a wave of relief.

Raihan quietly shuts the door behind him. Their eyes meet from across the cabin, remaining locked as Raihan closes the distance and presses his knee against the foot of the bed. He leans over Leon, who falls back on his elbows. Raihan presses his palms flat to the bed, and Leon sighs in relief through his nose as their lips meet.

They kiss for the next while, one of Raihan’s hands even coming up to cradle Leon’s cheek. It’s oddly tender, making Leon shiver and his throat tighten. He breaks the kiss, dropping down onto his back entirely and tugging Raihan back in by the front of his coat. The kiss is more hungry this time, deep and heated, Raihan now fitted between Leon’s legs and pressed up against his groin.

“Help me forget,” Leon breathes. “Please.”

A moment of silence, and then, “Of course.”

It doesn’t take them long to shed their clothes, and even if the air is cold, Raihan around him is keeping him warm enough. Leon sits in his lap now, kissing him and kissing him as his hand wraps around Raihan’s cock, pumping it slowly, thumb swiping over the tip to gather up the precum there. Raihan groans low into his mouth, one firm hand taking hold of Leon’s waist while the other pushes past Leon’s hand and between his thighs.

Leon’s breath hitches when two fingers press inside of him, pumping slowly, stretching him out as he continues working his hand over Raihan’s cock. Their kiss breaks again, and Raihan ducks his head down to take one stiff nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and lightly grazing his teeth over it. The position of his hand as he fingers Leon has his palm pressed up against Leon’s erect clit, rubbing over it slowly, causing Leon to whine a little and bucks his hips needily.

The friction has him moaning into Raihan’s hair, saliva pooling in his mouth. Raihan gives his nipple a suck, and then moves over to the next one, the air of the cabin cold against his spit. Leon bites down on his lip, squirming, and he finally uses his free hand to push at Raihan’s chest. A clear request for him to stop, if only for a moment.

Raihan pulls back, staring at him, something like worry flashing in his eyes. Those fingers slip out of him, much to Leon’s dismay, but they’ll be replaced by something much bigger in a few moments.

“In me,” Leon says, rubbing his thumb over the tip of Raihan’s cock and making Raihan’s hips jerk. Raihan nods quickly, drawing a shaky breath while Leon positions himself over him. He sinks down slowly, accepting Raihan inside of him with ease, moaning as he’s filled, eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out. Leon sits there for a moment, then glances over his shoulder. He can see the scarring on Raihan’s legs from here, even in the dim light of a single lantern, but he says nothing about it and instead turns his attention back to the man himself.

Their mouths meet again as Leon moves in Raihan’s lap, raising and lowering himself at a steady pace, their skin slapping together each time Leon drops down. Raihan shudders when Leon lightly rakes his nails down his back, then grabs a handful of purple hair to yank his head back so he can dig sharp canines into the tender flesh of his throat. The gold of one glints in the low light, and he’s sure Raihan can feel him swallow like this.

The longer they go, the faster Leon moves, and soon Raihan is thumping his hips up into him along with his movements. Leon buries his face in his shoulder, clinging onto him with one arm while his other hand rubs circles into his clit in rhythm with their hips. And when he comes it’s with a little, muffled whine than raises in pitch when Raihan buries himself in deep and releases with a grunt.

They sit there, panting, quivering, until Leon finally lifts himself off of Raihan’s softening cock. Cum oozes out of him, and he climbs off the bed and hobbles away to take care of it. When he returns, he sees Raihan still in the bed, lying back with one leg bent and his eyes on the wooden planks above. Leon wants to talk to him, but he’s not really sure what to say. But Raihan is there, he’s showing no signs of moving, or leaving.

So Leon walks over and climbs into the narrow bed, squeezing in next to him. They fit together easily, and Raihan is so warm that Leon thinks he may fall asleep within moments. The thin blanket is drawn over him and he curls in closer. Raihan says nothing, but he lets Leon use his bicep as a place to lay his head.

He listens to the other man’s slow, steady breathing. It lulls him to sleep.

In the distance, he can hear a song.

—

When he wakes up, it’s not because he wants to. It’s mostly because of the fact someone is trying to talk to him and smacking his back repeatedly. Leon grumbles as he’s roused from his sleep, lifting his head and blinking blearily. First, he notices that Raihan is still there. Then, he notices Raihan is sitting up and looking a little mortified, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

Next, when he turns his head, he sees Sonia standing over the bed with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

“The sirens are looking for you,” is all she says, and then she turns her attention to Raihan. “You! Don’t run him through too hard.”

“I— yes, ma’am.”

She leaves without another word, leaving them both sitting there in shock. That… well, that went better than anticipated. She had already known about whatever was going on between him and Raihan, but Raihan didn’t know that. He must have been panicking, he already looks horrified. Blue eyes turn down to Leon, then at the cabin door, then back to Leon.

“She saw you leaving my cabin once,” Leon explains, then drags himself out of the bed. “She won’t tell anyone.” It’s too cold, he’s already shivering, so he pulls his clothes on quickly in an attempt to shield himself from the biting temperature. Raihan is following suit, and Leon envies him for his heavy coat—Hop still has his right now, and who knows if the sirens will even think to return it along with him.

If he’s even still alive.

Leon leaves the cabin first, blinking in the bright morning sunlight. He sees a flurry of dark feathers as a few sirens descend onto the deck, and among them, he can see Piers and Marnie. As he walks closer, he can see Piers holding onto a familiar, small form, wrapped up in a red coat. In an instant Leon’s pace quickens until he’s all but running over, brushing past wary and even frightened crew members.

Breathless, Leon stands before the siren siblings, his heart beating wildly. Hop isn’t moving, his eyes are shut. Panic courses through him like ice in his blood. “Is he—”

“Yeah, he’s alive.” Piers adjusts Hop in his arms. The boy’s face twitches. “Unconscious, though. He might be asleep for the next day while he recovers.”

Leon leans over to get a better look at the boy. The gash on his brow remains, but it lacks the angry red color that betrays infection. It looks clean; jagged, a little pink, but mostly healed. He reaches his arms out, and his brother is passed to him. Hop is held gently, his head lolling over against Leon’s chest, his breathing soft.

“How did you even—”

“Don’t ask,” Piers interrupts. “You don’t need to know. It’s nothing humans can do, anyway.”

“Singing?”

“Our singin’ isn’t just singin’,” Marnie says. “Anyway… take good care of him. You two’re good brothers, I think.” She looks up at Piers. “Right?”

“Yeah. Good brothers,” Piers hums, then steps back, talons clicking against the wood. Out of the corner of his eye, Leon can see that Raihan’s finally arrived on the deck and is watching the group, curious but wary.

Leon swallows, still staring down at his brother. “Thank you. Really, thank you. It wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t repay you somehow. What would…”

“Don’t worry so much about it. Just be glad he’s alive,” Piers says. “And stop showing up unannounced. It’s a real pain to deal with. We don’t even get the chance to tidy the place up.”

He hears Raihan snort. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

“Get him out of the cold,” Piers continues. “We’ll lead you lot out of here, an’ you can get back to… wherever you were going?”

“Glimwood,” Leon says.

“Glimwood, yeah.”

The siren smirks just slightly, then takes off with the rest of the group. The crew rushes to pull the anchor up while the navigator takes his position and the sails are adjusted. The Champion Time’s flag waves in the breeze, bright against the clear blue skies, standing out proudly. Leon doesn’t stick around to watch the sirens lead his ship to safety through the fog when it finally returns, weaving in and out of the spikes in the water. Instead, he retreats to Hop’s cabin, where he rests the boy in his hammock and tucks his lamb doll into the crook of his arm. Leon takes his coat but replaces it with a blanket to keep Hop warm.

For a while, he just sits on the bed across from the hammock, legs folded beneath him, staring at his brother as he sleeps. Piers said a day, about the amount of time it will take to get to Glimwood from here if they’re lucky and don’t run into a storm or Navy ships.

—

When Hop wakes up, they’re only hours from Glimwood. He staggers onto the deck, his legs weak and eyes squinting in the sunlight. All it takes is a soft call of ‘Lee’ and Leon’s head is snapping up, eyes wide, and within moments he’s crossed the expanse of the ship to where his little brother waits for him.

The boy sags heavily against him as Leon brings him into his arms. Soft purple hair tickles Leon’s chin and Leon has to swallow the lump in his throat. Tears sting at his eyes when Hop clings desperately to him, like he never wants to let go. Leon is familiar, warm, and safe to him. Leon will always do his best to protect him.

But sometimes he messes up.

For once, Leon doesn’t care who might be watching. He presses a kiss to Hop’s hair and lifts him up in a nigh bone-crushing embrace. Hop laughs weakly, wiggling around before going limp again.

“‘m hungry, Lee,” the boy says.

“Well, you haven’t eaten in a while, have you?” Leon can’t help but laugh. It was easy enough getting the unconscious boy some water, so long as someone helped Leon hold his head back while he poured the water in. Food was another story—Leon wasn’t going to make like a mother bird and… well, it doesn’t need saying. “I’m sure the cook has something for you.”

There were leftover meats from the night before, and Hop devours it all faster than Leon thinks he’s ever seen him eat. At one point, Sonia comes around to check on Hop and give him a tight hug, then goes off to manage the crew while Leon watches over his brother.

“The entire time I was out,” Hop says around his mouthful. “I could hear singing.”

Leon doesn’t know if he should tell Hop that the singing was the sirens they met once upon a time. He doesn’t know how Hop will react to that, especially since those sirens were the ones who saved him.

“It must have been a strange dream,” Leon replies. “But you’re awake now. Do you feel better, now that you’ve eaten?”

“Uh-huh.” He takes one last bite and beams broadly at Leon, his grin like sunshine. Leon can’t help but reach over and grab his cheek.

“I’m going to teach you how to use a sword soon,” Leon says, voice soft, suddenly serious. “So this doesn’t happen again.”

_His mind flashes back to the memory of the boy, fueled by fear and fury, covered in blood as he wildly stabbed at the man who nearly shot Leon._

If it were under any other circumstances, Hop would have gotten excited, his eyes would have lit up. But he just goes quiet, his lips twitching. “Yeah. ‘course, Lee.”

Leon sighs and scoots closer to him, gathering him back up in his arms.

“Thought I was going to lose you,” he says softly. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

Hop laughs, but the sound is wet. Leon can feel tears soaking into his shirt. “Yeah, Lee, I’ll try.”

—

When Glimwood is visible in the distance, the crew rushes to prepare to dock. Sails drawn, anchor ready, and Leon walks across the deck to make sure everything is in order. Hop breaks away from his conversation with Gloria and Victor, even sharing a smile with Raihan when the man passes by him. Leon squints at that but decides not to think about it.

At least, if anything, Raihan gets along with his brother. Hop doesn’t deserve any sort of misery thrown his way simply by being related to him. He’s dealt with enough.

Raihan does meet his gaze once, holds it for a few moments, and then carries on.

—

The Wyrmwind is in clear sight as they reach the docks. Glimwood is as busy as ever, Leon can see people rushing about the narrow streets to finish their daily errands. They’ll need to restock their cargo while they’re here, he thinks distantly.

Already, some of Raihan’s crew are calling to them, waving at their captain when they see him. Raihan grins and laughs, waving back, and the joy on his face is… indescribable. He really loves his crew, doesn’t he? _If only Leon could get him to smile like that._ He feels almost guilty for keeping Raihan away for so long, for something that never really involved him to begin with.

But if it weren’t for Raihan, they may have never found Hop.

Leon steps off the ship first, Hop and Raihan following close behind, Cora at his heels. He straightens his coat and adjusts his hat, and when Hop reaches his side, Leon turns around to face Raihan who looms over the brothers. The man blinks, brows raising.

“Well. It’s been…” Raihan trails off, trying to find the right word. “Fun.”

“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Leon replies with a snort. “Your assistance was… valuable. We may not have ever found my brother without you.”

Raihan hums. Hop grins up at him and Leon quirks a brow when Raihan grins back, his gold fang gleaming. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Hop says. “You really felt like one of our own.”

“Did I, now?” Raihan reaches out to ruffle the boy’s hair with one large hand. “I’ll think about it.” He draws his hand back. “Be good for your brother, yeah? Don’t give him too much trouble.”

“He gives me trouble no matter what,” Leon says and… to his surprise, Raihan smiles at him. It’s small, but it’s still there.

“He’s a good lad. Take care of him.”

“I always do.”

A few beats of silence, then Raihan is turning to brush past the pair and make his way to his ship. Leon swallows thickly, a million emotions racing through him at that moment, all threatening to burst out at once. He moves quickly, his hand grabbing hold of Raihan’s sleeve. The other captain comes to a sudden stop, turning his head to look down at Leon in confusion.

“I…” Leon tries to even out his breathing. “Thank you, Raihan.”

Raihan’s brows twitch.

“For everything. I mean it, from the bottom of my heart.” Leon releases his sleeve. He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling right now, or why his heart is beating so fast. “If either you or your crew ever find yourselves in need, the Champion Time will be happy to help.”

Raihan stares at him in what seems like… shock? Disbelief? Leon can’t be certain. It feels like forever until he receives a response, even though it’s only a few moments.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Raihan replies.

Leon smiles in relief.

“You be good, too, Leon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no update. oof. life's definitely been kicking my ass. writer's block, then moving. at least i finally started testosterone can i get a hoh yeah
> 
> not too proud of this chapter but uh. i hope you guys like it. these two idiots might be getting somewhere now but they have... a while to go yet! *taps the slow burn tag*
> 
> also on another note, me and the lovely Verti are collaborating on a raileon fic together, which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842539/chapters/60094000).
> 
> anyway, thank you for your patience, and thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not for the first time he thinks Leon wouldn’t look out of place among the stars; maybe he’d glow brighter than the northern one itself.
> 
> Shining, blinding, still so out of reach and so beyond Raihan’s understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so tell me, please tell me, [just what kind of fool am i?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0eqcUHPcMEc)
> 
> ( this chapter contains brief sexual content. )

He was such a good boy, his mama’s friends always said. Sweet, smart, polite. Hardly ever caused any trouble, all he ever wanted to do was be there for his mama because she got so lonely sometimes. Maybe it’s because she misses her family, her big and fancy estate that she left behind for a man that didn’t love her. But she loves Raihan more than she misses that life, loves him so much it can be overwhelming at times. Every night she sings him to sleep, tucks him in with warm blankets, and a hand rubbing into his tight curls.

But one night, when he’s eight-years-old, he wakes up to the sound of someone forcing open the door of their home. It’s practically knocked off its hinges, and Raihan can remember what the man who appeared looks like clear as day—tall, his black hair long and wiry and his mouth almost completely hidden by his beard, his skin so pale Raihan thinks he could’ve been sick. And his eyes were so… cold. Dangerous.

The man says he’s here to exact revenge. Revenge against who? Raihan creeps up to the door of his room to peer around the corner. His mama’s hands are trembling, gripping tightly onto her nightgown, but she doesn’t run even though Raihan thinks she should. Then the man says a name— _Adam Kinsley._ Raihan’s heard that name before, it’s his father’s. Everything else is a blur in his memory, but he remembers the sound of a gunshot clear as day and watching his mother crumble to a heap to the floor, her blood painting the wall behind her.

Raihan doesn’t wait. With tears in his eyes, he climbs out of the window of his room and escapes into the night before he meets the same fate as she did.

He has to find his father.

—

**_July, 1735._ **

When he wakes up, the sun is shining directly in his eyes, and when he tries to move his arm to block it he’s aware of a weight holding it down. Raihan grunts in confusion before tilting his head down and— oh, right. There’s a head of messy purple hair resting on his arm like it’s a pillow.

Leon is still fast asleep, an arm over Raihan’s belly, with no sign of waking up. Sleeping like the dead. Raihan supposes he did thoroughly wear him out the night before, and then Leon, half asleep, once more requested for Raihan to stay in the inn room with him. Honestly, he probably shouldn’t have. It’s just too many more emotions he has to deal with and still hasn’t found a way to work out, but he remained regardless.

He doesn’t have to heart to move. Leon looks so… peaceful. His expression is soft, his long eyelashes are fluttering in his sleep, his lips parted with soft puffs of breath. There is a little bit of drool at the corner of his mouth, and some stubble on his cheeks. Raihan _does_ use his other hand to push some of Leon’s hair from his face since a stray lock was threatening to fall into his mouth. It’s all a bit too tender, but Raihan can’t bring himself to worry about it too much right now. Especially when all he can think of when he looks down at Leon now, his fingers still in his hair, is simply: _Pretty._

Soon, he needs to return to his ship before people start asking questions. They might already be asking questions. It’s definitely late in the morning, if not already past noon. Seagulls cry outside the window, he hears people passing by on the cobblestone streets below. Maybe he can afford a few more minutes before dragging himself out of bed, but things are already picking up in town. The sleepy morning has long passed.

Every time he’s seen Leon now the past few months, he can’t help but think about their journey together to save his brother. The story never spread, remaining only within their crews, and for all anyone else knows, their bitter rivalry continues. Raihan… remains bitter, frustrated, but also uncertain how else to feel when Leon treats him with surprising kindness. There is sometimes frustration on his end, because Raihan is stubborn as a mule and won’t open up no matter how much he pries.

It’s usually all forgotten once they’re in bed together. Raihan can still feel the sting of nails in his back as he lies there. He moves his hand from Leon’s hair to the arm slung over him, tilting his head once more to look down at the man. The smell of flowers isn’t so nauseating anymore, but it is still a little dizzying.

Leon had just turned twenty the other day, he told Raihan when they met the night prior. _Sometimes I feel much older,_ he had said. There was something sad in his voice. Raihan drew him in by the hips and kissed it away.

After a few more minutes, he gently pushes the arm off of his waist and begins to nudge at Leon. The man grumbles low, turning his face into Raihan’s arm, eyes pinching shut tighter and nose crinkling.

“Come on. Up,” Raihan mumbles, and when he pulls his arm out from beneath Leon’s head, Leon’s eyes snap open. With furrowed brows, he glares up at Raihan in annoyance, then merely rolls onto his other side and curls into a tight ball. Raihan squints, sitting up. He jostles Leon again, and Leon whines like a petulant child. So much for the fearsome Champion of the Seas. He sighs, running a hand down his face, then decides that drastic times call for drastic measures.

Long fingers wiggle into Leon’s ribs, causing the man to yelp in surprise and nearly roll right off of the bed. Instead, he jolts upright, hair wild around his head and a scowl on his face. Oh, Raihan didn’t think that would actually work. Their eyes meet and Leon huffs at him, then rubs at his eyes with his palms.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he grumps, lightly thwacking Raihan on the arm. “I would have gotten up.”

“Certainly. In five hours, maybe.”

“No!” Leon looks thoroughly offended. It’s kind of funny. “I don’t sleep _that_ much.”

“I remember you telling me you would sleep all day if you could.” Why does he remember that at all? Raihan is a little confused with himself.

“Well!” Leon throws his hands up. “I’m up now. I suppose we should get dressed.”

Leon clambers over Raihan to climb off of the bed, his knee nearly hitting Raihan’s gut in the process. Raihan lets out a grunt, turning his head so he can watch Leon as the man moves around the room. His purple hair is a mess, sticking out at almost every angle, a few strands sticking to his face. Leon disappears briefly to clean off the mess between his legs, then returns to gather up his clothes.

And Raihan can’t help but eye the strong muscle of his back shifting beneath warm brown skin, the way his arms flex as he reaches out. Blue eyes shamelessly rake over Leon’s body, admiring the ample curve of his chest, down to where he grows slim at the waist before widening at the hips, the swell of his backside leading to toned legs. There is no denying just how attractive Leon is, and Raihan thinks he looks even better now covered in marks left behind by his lips and teeth.

He blinks slowly, then climbs out of the bed to saunter up behind Leon as Leon fiddles with the buttons of his shirt. Large hands come to rest on the bare skin of Leon’s hips, thumbs rubbing into the skin. A low sigh escapes Leon, whose hands abandon the buttons and instead come to rest on the hands on his hips.

Raihan nuzzles into his hair, then reaches up to push it all over one shoulder, exposing the expanse of Leon’s neck. He dips his head down, kisses one dark bruise there, then drags his tongue over it, feeling Leon shiver against him.

Against Leon’s neck he breathes out, “Can I…”

“Yes,” Leon replies before Raihan can even finish.

Leon ends up with his back against the wall, held up by hands on the back of his thighs. Arms tighten around Raihan’s shoulders as Raihan rolls his hips into him steadily, their mouths meeting in messy kisses. Leon makes such soft noises into Raihan’s mouth that occasionally raise in pitch with an occasional hard thrust.

“Raihan- Raihan—” Leon whimpers, over and over, clenching tight around Raihan inside of him before he comes with a shaky gasp and cry muffled by the kiss. He jolts with every thrust, digs his nails into Raihan’s skin, clinging for his dear life as Raihan fucks into him until he reaches his own release. He spills in deep with a groan, his hold on Leon’s legs tightening, and after a minute of them catching their breath, Raihan pulls his softening cock out and settles Leon back on the floor.

The other man leans back against the wall as he waits for his legs to work properly again, his expression nothing but pure bliss, cheeks red and eyes a little glassy. Raihan pats one cheek to get his attention. “Good?”

“Yes,” Leon hums. “Thank you.” He shifts a little, and the expression of bliss turns into a cringe when he becomes aware of the cum leaking out of him. “I just cleaned up…”

“Should’ve thought of that before, yeah?” As Leon pulls away from the wall and shuffles off to clean himself in the washbowl again, Raihan gives him a hearty smack on the rear that has him stumbling with a surprised yelp ripping from his throat. Leon throws him a glare over his shoulder.

Raihan dresses while Leon is busy, finding his clothes scattered all about the room. He’s in the process of tying his bandanna around his head again when Leon returns and resumes dressing as well. They don’t speak, which is maybe for the best. Leon tugs an old brush through his hair until he’s a bit more presentable, and as he pulls on his coat he turns back to Raihan.

“Good seeing you again, Captain,” he says with a grin. A smug grin that Raihan isn’t sure whether he wants to kiss off or smack off. He does neither.

“Right,” Raihan replies. Those gold eyes are burning into him. Reaching out, he plucks Leon’s hat off and gives his hair a thorough ruffle. Leon lets out a little noise of complaint, swatting Raihan’s hand away and grabbing his hat from him. “Go on. I’ll return the key.”

Leon eyes him for a moment, then nods. “Safe travels, Raihan.”

“Safe travels.”

So Leon leaves like he always does, the door shutting behind him. Raihan stands there alone for another minute, thinking, wondering just why he keeps doing this and why he can’t stop. Ugh, he’s- he’s had this talk with himself a million times, he doesn’t want to do it again. Not right now. So he grabs the key from the table and finally leaves the room. The innkeeper says nothing to him when he returns it, thankfully; she doesn’t even look twice.

Thank God for people that mind their own business.

—

“You’re late again,” Nessa says the moment Raihan steps onto the ship.

“Nessa,” Raihan groans. “Don’t start.” The sun shines brightly onto the deck, which is bustling with activity. Ludo trots up to him and nuzzles against his palm, which earns the pooch scratches behind his ears.

“Who’s the lucky bloke this time?” She continues regardless, tucking a blue braid behind her ear. A smile is on her face, mischief alight in her eyes.

So much for people minding their own business.

“Why do you need to know?” He’d rather they embark soon so he doesn’t have to deal with these questions. People are too nosy for their own good. “There are other things to concern yourself over, Nessa. Who I’m shagging isn’t one of them.”

She tilts her head with a frown. Then she prods him in the ribs. It makes him wiggle a little. “That’s fair enough. You don’t have to keep everything a secret, though.”

He doesn’t like how she’s talking about this. Like she knows more than she lets on. Raihan’s mind flashes back to months ago when Sonia had caught he and Leon in bed together, and Leon had assured him Sonia wouldn’t tell anyone. But Nessa and Sonia are lovers, what if she _did_ —

No, Nessa would scold him first, then begin to ask way too many questions the moment she found out, most likely.

But he wonders how obvious it is that he’s hiding something. She’s more perceptive than most, so if he’s lucky, the rest of the crew are none the wiser.

She parts from him for a while as they both help prepare the ship to leave. The sun shines bright, the summer rays hot on his skin and making him sweat under his clothes. He shrugs his coat off then works on adjusting the rope of one of the shrouds, eyes occasionally darting over the docks and occasionally lingering on the other ship some distance away.

Leon isn’t there yet. Likely lost in the streets of Hulbury, knowing him. The crewmen there right now don’t seem all that concerned, though. He sees Sonia there, her fiery hair untied and spilling in thick curls over her shoulders; she’s calling out orders, her hands on her hips. Something about her is interesting to him— how she carries herself. There is firmness there, but also a gentleness and sense of poise that reminds him of his mama.

Raihan isn’t one to pry, but he does regret not getting to know her better when he had the chance. They were friendly enough with one another, regardless of how he felt about her captain who, from what he understands, is also her best friend.

He shrugs it off and turns his eyes away.

It’s when he’s beginning to move onto another task that he sees a flash of red and violet out of the corner of his eye. Raihan can’t help but look again, watching as Leon boards his ship and is immediately receiving what looks like a scolding from Sonia. He can’t hear what they’re saying from here, but he can see the red in Leon’s cheeks that’s either from an embarrassed blush or exertion from running in the heat. And he can see his smile, sunny and bright, and when Sonia swats his arm Raihan can hear his loud laugh.

There is a flutter in his belly.

Raihan looks away.

“Raihan,” Nessa’s voice suddenly sounds behind him again. Raihan glances over his shoulder, brows raised. When he looks at her, he notices the wrinkle in her forehead from her brows pinched together with worry, her lips turned downward. He rises to his full height and turns to her quickly.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, voice low.

“Not with me,” and she smiles at him. “There’s a storm coming, is all, and Bea doesn’t think we’ll be able to outrun it.”

Raihan looks over her head then, across the great expanse of ocean, off to the horizon where— ah, yes. There are dark gray clouds forming, slowly beginning to creep closer and closer. The Wyrmwind has sailed through plenty of storms, so what is another?

“Does she think we should stay until it passes?”

“Yes.” Nessa folds her arms. “And if it’s bad enough to worry _Bea_ of all people, then I agree. We should stay.”

Truth be told, he’s not entirely thrilled with staying in Hulbury much longer. It’s a port town, and while it’s largely untouched by the King and his men, they still aren’t completely absent. They only pass through to collect taxes every so often, and take away some of the fishermens’ catch. He doesn’t want to be there when they come, because he doesn’t fancy the idea of being caught and sent to the gallows, no sir.

It’s hard to argue with that look in Nessa’s eyes, though. Raihan runs a hand through his locs and sighs.

“Just until it passes,” he says. Raihan drags his hand over his sweaty brow with a sigh. His eyes dart back to the other ship, where he sees Leon has shed his own coat and has his sleeves rolled up as he carries things across the deck. Are they staying too? Until the storm passes? Leon never told him their plans, he never does, because Raihan never asks.

He raises his voice to catch the attention of the crew, “All right, men. There is a storm coming, so we’ll be staying in Hulbury once it passes.” He shares another glance with Nessa, who is giving him an odd look before she turns and walks away. “Make sure everything is secure before you take shelter.”

The uneasy feeling in his gut won’t subside. Like something awful is going to happen. Maybe not being caught by soldiers, but something else. Raihan tries to ignore that feeling, even if it eats incessantly at his brain. All he can do is keep himself busy until the storm hits, then he’ll take shelter for what he assumes will be another night.

The storm clouds are still rolling in. The smell of rain is already mingling with the smell of the ocean. A cool breeze passes over them, and there is a rumble of thunder in the distance. Already he can see people on the streets racing back to their homes before they’re drenched, and when he looks at the Champion Time he sees them beginning to escape below deck.

Except for Leon, who stands at the back of the ship and stares out across the water, towards the oncoming storm.

Then he turns his head suddenly, their eyes meeting even at this distance. Raihan blinks, then tears his eyes away.

—

When the storm finally hits, the world is shrouded in darkness. The clouds completely blot out the midday sun, and the patter of rain is soft at first. Soft, and then suddenly torrential. Wind howls outside, lightning flashes, thunder cracks. The ship rocks even when anchored, the sound of ocean water splashing against the sides, but Raihan is hardly bothered by it. He stares out of the single, small window in his cabin, watching the rain come down in heavy sheets and the last few people remaining on the streets rush to shelter.

It’s a little cold, but after spending hours in the sun, it’s a welcome change. Raihan turns his attention away from the window, then drags himself out of his bed to walk over to his desk. Candlelight paints the room a dim gold, but it’s enough for him to see the parchment that he scratches at with charcoal.

He draws himself. He draws Nessa. His mama. His father. He draws Leon, and Hop—

The dream he had the night before lingers. Not entirely a dream, but a memory. Something that haunts him even when he’s awake. Raihan wonders often where the man who killed his mama is now, wonders if he’ll ever have the chance to strangle the life out of him himself if he isn’t already dead. It’s something he’s fantasized about often.

His life would be so much different if it weren’t for that man.

Hours pass. The rain still pours. Raihan is beginning to get fidgety. He leaves his cabin long enough to eat with the crew, then returns, barely escaping getting drenched. If they’re lucky, the storm won’t damage the sails or the rigging, and preparing to leave in the morning will go smoothly. For now, Raihan lies in bed.

He lies in bed and thinks.

So much has happened in the past year, it’s hard to really comprehend it all. So much, all because of one man. One fateful encounter. Leon still has that scar on his lip from Raihan’s blade, a reminder that will remain there forever, and Raihan often wonders how he feels about it. There had been some occasions, when they met, where he’d see Leon feel over it with his tongue or fingers.

What does he think? Is he angry about it? Such a pretty face, even with the scar.

He wishes he could stop thinking about Leon.

That smile and laugh. Those golden eyes. The gentle inflection of his voice.

Raihan rolls over and falls asleep.

—

When he wakes, it’s in the dead of night. The rain has stopped, but the air is still chilly. Raihan blinks blearily, lifting his head and looking around the cabin as best as he can— his candle’s gone out, so there’s little light, but the glow of the moon cuts through the remaining dark clouds.

But it wasn’t the storm subsiding that woke him; no, it was a gentle knocking on his door. Raihan drags a hand over his face with a low groan, then drags himself out of bed to the cabin door. When he opens it, he expects to find Nessa there, or some other crewman.

Not Leon, who looks up at him with eyes he swears glow in the darkness. He’s without his hat, and his hair is a wild mess around his head, like he’s just risen from slumber. Raihan opens his mouth, prepared to ask him what he wants. Obviously he wants to join him from the rest of the night, right? Why does Raihan even have to ask?

Except… the look in Leon’s eye is a strange one.

“What—”

“I want to show you something,” Leon cuts him off. Then he reaches out, grabbing Raihan’s wrist and dragging him out of the cabin. The door shuts heavily behind him. Raihan wants to protest, to ask Leon what the hell he’s doing, what is _so_ important that he has to find Raihan in the middle of the night to drag him God-knows-where. But Leon is offering no room for argument, simply dragging Raihan across the deck and onto the dock with ease. All Raihan can do is follow.

No one is around to see them. It’s a relief. What would they think, seeing the two captains like this?

Leon remains silent as they walk. Raihan wonders if he should say something, anything, but sometimes silence is the best thing one can offer. If Leon wants to speak, he will.

They arrive at a tavern. There is still a glow coming from within, but little noise. Raihan expects Leon to pull him inside, maybe up to a room where they’ll—

Oh. Leon is… guiding him behind the building, in the narrow alleyway between it and a neighboring seamstress. There are crates stacked on top of each other, a few sacks of… _something_ resting against the building. It smells a little like piss, too, which makes Raihan crinkle his nose.

Leon lets go of his hand. “Come on.”

The other approaches the crates. A stray cat that had been crouched nearby hisses before bolting past them both and running out into the street. Raihan watches Leon climb onto the crates, all the way to the very top one where he finally scales up the rest of the building himself, finding footing in loose bricks. It allows him to drag himself up onto the thatched roof. He peers over the edge, down at where Raihan still stands, looking up at him.

Raihan considers just turning and walking away.

Instead, he follows Leon’s suit. Climbs the crates, then pulls himself onto the roof with relative ease, thanks to his size.

“What do you have to show me?” Raihan grumbles as he settles down next to Leon. The thatching is damp under him, a little uncomfortable, but he can put up with it for a little while. At least until Leon’s done with him.

Leon is silent for another few moments, and then:

“Do you like the stars?”

Raihan blinks a few times. What kind of question is that? Is that what Leon dragged him out here for? He stares at him with a frown, wondering if it’s some kind of joke, but Leon finally turns his head to look at him and… Raihan can tell he’s being sincere. There is no joke, no prank, no scheme. Just a simple question. _Do you like the stars?_

Truth be told, he doesn’t give the stars much thought unless it has to do with navigating. Sure, it can be a lovely sight when they reflect off the ocean water, but he doesn’t ever spend his time staring at them, admiring them. There were still times he wondered what they were.

“I…” Raihan rubs the back of his neck. “I guess?”

Leon tilts his head. In the moonlight, Raihan can see him smile. He then turns his face to the sky, Raihan following his gaze.

There are still leftover clouds from the storm, but they’ve dispersed enough that the moon shines through and the stars twinkle above them.

It _is_ a pretty sight to behold—the stars, and the way the moonlight illuminates Leon’s face.

_What?_

No, that thought is quickly chased away and Raihan focuses again on the night sky.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Raihan can’t help but ask. “So important you’d drag me off of my ship for it?”

Leon lets out a soft little laugh, running a hand through his long hair. “I just don’t like watching the stars alone.” A beat of silence. “Summer skies are always the best. Even after it storms.” Then he’s lying back on the roof, even if the rainwater seeps into his clothes. Raihan watches him, before doing the same.

He can live with the dampness for now.

“Hop and I watch the stars a lot,” Leon explains, folding his hands over his belly. There is a wistful look in his eye as he stares up at the sky. Raihan squints at him, then turns his eyes back up. “We always have. Ever since we were young.”

Raihan stays silent.

“Sonia has a book about… constellations. I can’t make much sense of it.”

“Pictures in the sky, right? Or something.”

“Or something,” Leon says with a laugh. “I guess so, in a way. Stars making formations, but I can’t even begin to tell you their names. But I like looking at them.”

Why is Leon telling him all of this? Raihan continues mapping out the sky with his eyes. It’s a full moon tonight, casting them in a white glow as they lie there. One star in particular shines brighter than the others. Not for the first time he thinks Leon wouldn’t look out of place among the stars; maybe he’d glow brighter than the northern one itself.

Shining, blinding, still so out of reach and so beyond Raihan’s understanding.

They lie there in silence for… Raihan doesn’t know how long, but it seems to stretch on forever. Leon is close to his side, radiating warmth, and his presence is oddly soothing. If it weren’t for the dampness in his clothes, he might be able to fall asleep like this.

“Raihan,” Leon says softly, suddenly moving. He’s turning onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow and hovering over Raihan. A hand rests on Raihan’s chest. “I need to ask you something.”

A sickening feeling of dread forms in his gut at first, but when he looks up at Leon above him, into the golden of his eyes, it’s gone as soon as it comes. Replaced by a sense of calm. He wonders if Leon can feel his thudding heartbeat under his palm, wonders if he can hear the shaky edge to his breathing.

“All right,” Raihan manages.

Leon is silent for a few moments, deep in thought, like he’s trying to figure out how to best word what he wants to say.

“What do you feel when you think of me?”

Ah.

Raihan stares at him in odd shock. Not the question he was expecting, but it fills him with so much intense emotion at once he thinks he might get dizzy just lying there. What does he feel when he thinks of Leon? Such a complex question, something he can’t really answer even when he asks himself.

_Angry. Bitter. Jealous._

Raihan swallows.

_Overwhelmed. Confused. Warm._

“I…” Raihan breathes in. “Don’t know.”

Leon is silent then, staring down at him with a furrowed brow. Then he’s dipping his head down, pressing a slow kiss to Raihan’s lips. Raihan’s heart skips a beat under Leon’s hand. The kiss doesn’t last long, but when they part Leon’s face remains close. His hair spills over his shoulders, hiding them from the rest of the world.

“How did that make you feel?” Leon breathes.

Raihan stares. Warmth is blooming in his chest, spreading across his face. He feels— oh, God, what does he feel?

“Do it again,” he murmurs. “Then maybe I’ll know.”

So Leon does. Their lips meet again, longer this time. Raihan rests his hand on Leon’s waist, giving a little squeeze as they kiss more, and more, and more. The tip of his tongue brushes over Leon’s bottom lip, tracing over the scar, making Leon shiver. It deepens further, open-mouthed and hot, their hearts racing and breathing shaking.

Eventually, it turns back into soft pecks. Leon rubs their noses together, eyes fluttering shut, his breath warm on Raihan’s face. They lie there for another minute in complete silence, basking in each other’s warmth, listening to the sound of their breathing.

“I don’t understand you,” Raihan finally says. Leon opens his eyes. “No matter what I do, you don’t push me away.”

“Why would I?” Leon runs a thumb over Raihan’s jaw. Raihan feels his lips quiver.

“Because I’m—” _Bad._ “Because…”

There are tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat. When he blinks, those tears escape. Leon looks alarmed the moment he notices, taking hold of Raihan’s face with both hands. Gentle thumbs brush the tears away, only for a few more to take their place.

“Raihan?”

Raihan sucks in a harsh breath, reaching up to wipe at his wet eyes. “I need to- I need to go. I’m sorry.”

He nudges Leon off of him. Leon goes willingly, but stares at him with wide eyes, confusion evident on his face. Raihan hates that look, hates that he might be hurting Leon doing this when Leon isn’t even doing anything. Every time he pushes Leon away he can’t help but wonder how it must feel for him. Infuriating, he’s sure, but… confusing? Distressing, even?

How does Leon feel towards him?

Raihan gives him one last look, taking in Leon sitting there bathed in moonlight, and then he climbs off of the roof of the tavern. The moment his feet hit ground, he’s running. Running as fast as he can, down the streets and towards the docks to his ship. No one sees him as he goes, no one passes him, and no one is on the deck when he returns.

Except he can’t shake off the horrible feeling he’s being watched. Not by Leon, but by… he doesn’t know who. It must be the nerves eating at him.

He cries for what must be the first time in a long time. It’s quiet, but suffocating, the tears burning hot on his face. All he can think about now is Leon, that sweet and warm feeling when he sees Leon mixed with frustration and anger. He doesn’t think he hates him anymore, but he’s not sure. It’s all too much, too overwhelming.

Raihan thinks he hates the stars now.

—

“ _Who_ is looking for me?” Raihan groans. The sun is too bright for the morning after a storm, and he barely slept already. Memories of the night still haunt him— Leon’s voice, his words, his kiss, the look on his face when Raihan ran away like a _coward._ He rubs a hand over his face, exhausted and irritated. “We need to be leaving, Nessa.”

The ship is already prepared, as is the crew, so what _else_ is there that is so _damn important_ that it has to further delay their journey? He likes to think of himself as patient, but not when things keep getting in the way of his plans. He feels like the longer they stay here, the more they risk being caught.

“I don’t know!” Nessa huffs. She holds out a folded piece of parchment. “He just handed me this letter and said to give it to you.”

Raihan eyes it warily, then plucks it from her hand to unfold it and read its contents. The penmanship is sloppy, the person who wrote it clearly far from literate, but it’s legible enough for Raihan to be able to read it.

 _The lighthouse. Meet me there. If you—_ it’s interrupted by a few illegible words _—I know who killed your mum. Wants to kill you, too. He’s here._

Yeah, sure, this isn’t suspicious at _all_ , but—

Well, no one knows about his mama’s death but him and Nessa. It’s not something he tells just anyone. This can’t be a prank being pulled on him by the crew, and certainly not Nessa herself. She isn’t that cruel.

He remembers his dream. His memory. That strange feeling like he was being watched, followed.

Raihan notices his hands are trembling. His grip on the paper is so tight it nearly rips it. Raw fury is beginning to bubble up, threatening to boil over, but he needs to remain calm. The bastard who killed him is here, in Hulbury? What are the chances? And if he goes to the lighthouse—which stands proud on a cliff—he’ll learn who he is, where he is. Or maybe he’s the one calling him there.

“I need to do something.” Is anger clouding his judgment? It seems like it. What he’s about to do isn’t very safe, or smart, and he could be endangering his life, but he needs to know. He needs to _know._ “If I don’t come back, go to the lighthouse, but don’t go alone.”

“Raihan—?” Nessa reaches out to grab him by the sleeve when he moves, but he yanks his arm away.

“Captain’s orders,” he says. Raihan makes sure that his sword is at one hip and pistol at the other. He turns his head in the direction of the lighthouse, where it cuts through the sky and casts a shadow over the cliff it stands on. It’ll be a bit of a walk, but it’s nothing that Raihan can’t handle. “Don’t worry. I _will_ come back.”

Nessa looks uncertain, but how many times has he put himself in danger and come back just fine? Sure, maybe he has a few scars, but at least he’s _alive._ Isn’t that enough?

Besides, this is _personal._

She has no time to respond before he’s leaving the ship. As he’s walking down the dock, he does spare one more glance to where the Champion Time sits. They’re clearly getting ready to depart soon, but he can’t see Leon anywhere. Which is… maybe for the best. He doesn’t want to be reminded of that confused look in Leon’s eyes, mixed with something like _hurt,_ when Raihan had fled.

He doesn’t want to be reminded of how Leon’s lips felt against his again, their first kiss outside of sex.

Raihan tears his eyes away, swallows, then begins his trek through the town once more. Most people don’t even spare him a glance, but children often stare at him when he passes, in awe of his towering size. Usually he’d smile at them, but he keeps his eyes forward now. He has to stay focused on his goal. He knows he’s acting on his anger right now, he knows he’s acting impulsively, but he could be this close to finding the bastard who killed his mama in cold blood. And he is so, so eager to feel that man’s life fade away with Raihan’s hands around his throat.

_I’ll do what my father refused to._

As he’s passing through a mass of trees along the cliff, he starts having that strange feeling again. That he’s being watched, or followed, or both. It’s like a dark cloud looming over him. But he keeps walking, trying to ignore the growing feeling of dread in his belly. Ever since they arrived in Hulbury that feeling had been there and only worsened the longer they were there. At first he thought it was because of the threat of being caught by the King’s men, but now…

When he steps out of the trees, the lighthouse casting him in its shadow, he’s very much aware he’s not alone anymore.

As if the pistol suddenly pressing into his back wasn’t enough of a hint.

Raihan freezes up. He wants to reach for his sword, or his own pistol, but he’s quite aware that he’s at a disadvantage here. Caught by surprise, with the weapon already on him, and it’d only take a slight twitch of a finger to fire it.

“Can’t believe it took me this long to hunt you down,” comes the voice of his assailant. It’s deep, gravelly, heavily-accented. And it’s familiar. Too familiar. Memories flash in his mind, of his mother standing with wide eyes as a man points a gun at her; of his mother dead on the floor; of him scrambling out of his bedroom window and escaping into the night before he’d meet the same fate. “You’re a slippery one. Always have been.”

It’s him.

Raihan drags his tongue over the back of his teeth. “You couldn’t kill a child,” he can’t help but taunt. “How do you expect to kill a grown man?”

“I’ve killed _plenty_ of grown men,” the man snaps. “You’ll just be another. It’ll make up for not bein’ able to kill your dear ol’ dad myself.”

As the man speaks, Raihan is trying to weigh his options. He could risk getting shot trying to draw his weapon, or he could try to catch him by surprise by keeping him talking and moving when he least expects it. Because now the man is just within reach, he’s already imagining what he might look like dead on the ground, and he wants that to be a reality so, so terribly.

“At least let me see the face of the man who wants to kill me,” Raihan sighs. “I’m sure you’ll want to see the life fading from my eyes, won’t you?”

The man lets out a growl, and then Raihan feels a hand grabbing his wrist and spinning him around. He may be tall, but Raihan still towers over him, but the man is well-muscled. He looks like he could put up a good fight, despite his apparent age. That dark, wiry hair has started graying, and there are heavy lines on his face now. Those dark eyes— they look almost crazed. The look of a murderer, a madman.

The barrel of the pistol presses against his abdomen now. Raihan’s fingers twitch, itching to reach out and grab him by the throat, or to find his sword at his hip, but he doesn’t move yet.

“You look just like him,” the man growls out. “But you’ve got your mum’s eyes. Such a pretty woman, wasn’t she?”

“Don’t ever speak of her,” Raihan snaps, white-hot anger rising in his chest. “You don’t get to, not after what you did.”

“And what did I do?”

“You don’t need to me to say it. You know.”

The barrel of the pistol presses in harder. “Say it.”

“You killed her for something that was never her fault,” Raihan hisses. He’s vaguely aware of the man stepping forward, causing him to take a step back, and then another. “Right in front of her child.”

“I was making a point,” the other snaps. “How’d Adam feel about it?”

He didn’t care.

There was a moment of anger, but it was mostly annoyance. Like he’d been mildly inconvenienced. It was the first sign something wasn’t right about his father, that he wasn’t the great man his mama seemed to think he was. Not great enough to run away from her life of luxury and raise a child on her own. And she died for nothing. Not a single tear was shed. Raihan was hardly afforded the time to cry himself.

“He didn’t have the reaction you wanted,” Raihan says, voice low. “Far from it. So you killed an innocent woman for nothing.”

“I don’t care.” That finger caresses the trigger. “Where would you like me to shoot you, then? I think I’d—”

Raihan gets fed up quickly, and when the man is distracted he slams his elbow up into his chin. The man staggers backward, grabbing his jaw with his free hand, and Raihan takes the moment to draw his sword. When the man recovers in a matter of seconds, he’s retrieving his own sword. Blade in one hand, gun in the other.

The man is fast, though, and is able to weave out of the way of his sword with surprising ease. He gets close, sometimes too close to Raihan, but he’s only able to deliver a few small cuts as opposed to impaling him through the gut or chest like he wants. There is no strategy behind his blows, he’s driven solely by rage and the need for revenge. It makes him… sloppy, he knows, but his brain is focused on killing the bastard in front of him. He has no room, no time to draw his own gun.

“Why did you want him dead?” Raihan asks, breathless. He narrowly avoids a slice upwards.

“He took something very dear to me,” the other snarls. “So I took something of his in return.”

Even though she and Raihan were never that important to him anyway. But the man won’t listen to any sort of reason, won’t feel any sort of guilt in his blackened heart. Raihan doesn’t understand how anyone could have looked at his mama, with her bright smile and gentle blue eyes, and felt nothing when killing her. Years living this life, and he still doesn’t understand.

But what did his father take from this man that, in the man’s head, warranted killing someone innocent?

Adam Kinsley was not a good man. Raihan knew this firsthand. His golden fang is enough proof.

At least now he knows who else to blame for her death.

“Since you look just like him, it’s almost like killing him,” the man says. “Good enough for me.”

It’s not easy fighting here. The grass beneath his feet is still wet, slick, he almost slips a few times, and then suddenly he’s—

Standing at the cliff’s edge. The waves crash against the cliff face far below, swirling dark tides mixed with seafoam. Raihan staggers momentarily, and as he tries to regain his footing the man uses it to his advantage. Suddenly, his sword is being twisted out of his hand, falling to the ground and being kicked out of the way.

Next, he feels a hand that was once holding a sword closing around his throat.

And then he hears the crack of gunfire, smells the thick stench of smoke, feels a searing pain just below his rib cage, feels blood soaking into his clothes.

He teeters precariously, the world spinning around him, bile rising in his throat. The shock is taking hold of his limbs, his mind, but he manages to grab at the wound with one hand. All it takes is the hand to release his throat, and before he tumbles over the edge the man simply says, “I’ll see you in hell.”

The sky grows farther and farther away with each passing second. He knows that he’s falling, falling, falling, but he doesn't scream. His lips part, but nothing comes out.

_CRASH_

Seawater fills his mouth as everything around him goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally... i didn't make you guys wait another month for a new chapter...... finally. i wrote most of this chapter in one sitting i feel insane
> 
> some proper raihan backstory for everyone. and some progress between him and leon (screams) sorry not sorry for that ending though
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
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	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Am I dead?”
> 
> “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i'm holding out my hand to you, [but you slip right through my fingers.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2GtOiOfj-sM)

The sun is bright and cheery, the sky a cloudless blue. The only signs of the storm from the day prior are the puddles in the streets and dampness on the rooftops, the grass, the wood of the deck. Leon should be ready and raring to go, they need to be leaving soon, but instead he’s just… tired. Not entirely because he had a bad night’s sleep, but tired in an emotional sense.

He had woken up from another nightmare, long after the storm ended. A chill had gripped him, bone-deep, and his hands had trembled. The smell of flowers was almost too much for once, no longer soothing or grounding. Too worked up to fall back to sleep, he did something stupid.

Obviously, he could have woken Hop up, but Hop had been working so hard lately, he deserved any rest he could get. Leon doesn’t know why he did it, why he slipped out in the dead of night to sneak onto a familiar ship that wasn’t his own. Dead quiet, no crewmen in sight, only the full moon bearing witness to him.

Leon knew what Raihan must have been expecting, but Leon didn’t want that. Not then, at least. But he still went willingly with Leon as Leon dragged him through the streets of Hulbury. For once his feet took him where he wanted to go.

The sky had been so beautiful, stars twinkling on a canvas of navy, the moon casting them in its gentle glow, and Raihan had been so warm beside him. The moment felt— perfect. He wanted to hold onto it forever, but he couldn’t help but ask, how did he make Raihan feel? It was so… complicated, whatever was going on between them, and even Leon didn’t completely understand his own feelings. Curiosity, and a blossoming affection. Not exactly love, he doesn’t think, or maybe it is?

They kissed. Kissed without the expectation of sex. Kissed just because they could, alone under the stars, close and warm and so, so perfect.

But Raihan, he—

_"I don't understand you. No matter what I do, you don't push me away."_

_"Why would I?"_

There were tears. Raihan's tears, falling unbidden. The first time Leon's ever seen him cry, and it made his heart hurt. Was he the cause of those tears, or was there something else, something going on under the surface that he doesn't know about?

He couldn't ask. He couldn't even begin to comfort because Raihan was moving, pulling away, leaving Leon behind.

 _Please don’t push me away,_ he had thought desperately. But Raihan was already gone.

Leon blinks in the sunlight, swallows the lump in his throat. He should… busy himself instead of staring blankly across the water, or occasionally stealing glances at the other nearby ship like he's hoping to see _him._

He turns his eyes away, instead trying to focus on the trio of young teenagers racing around on the deck.

Hop looks so happy these days, despite everything. Or maybe he's just learned to hide everything like Leon has. Leon doesn't want to consider that possibility—he just wants to believe Hop is okay. Hop, who found friends in the twins. Hop, who has grown so much, nearly fourteen now.

Hop, who may not be here if it weren’t for the man he’s trying very hard to forget about at that moment.

Leon tries to focus on the sea again, the endless stretch of blue sparkling in the morning sunlight. The breeze blowing in from the water caresses his face, pushes through his hair, but it does little to ease his nerves.

“What’s on your mind?” Sonia’s voice is gentle behind him, her hand lightly brushing against his elbow. Leon tenses momentarily, then exhales as he lets himself relax. He had hoped she’d not notice, or at least not ask, but she’s been more worried about him than usual these days. For good reason, of course, even if he doesn’t want to admit that.

He allows himself a dry smile at her when she moves to his side. “I’d tell you, but I’d like to leave Hulbury sometime this century.”

“We have time,” Sonia replies. “Things aren’t ready just yet.”

No getting out of this, just his luck.

Leon isn’t even sure where to start. He falls silent again, refusing to look at her. He has an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

“You keep looking at the Wyrmwind,” Sonia finally points out. Leon visibly winces. “Did something happen with—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Leon replies, a little too fast, a little too defensive. His shoulders droop immediately after. “I’d rather not think about it.”

He hates how much it’s bothering him, how much it hurts. Raihan was under no obligation to stay, it isn’t as though they’re lovers. It still hurt, feeling so close to understanding but then being pushed away once more, leaving Leon with more questions and no answers.

The image of Raihan crying silent tears flashes through his mind again. It’s not a pretty sight. It makes his throat tighten.

Sonia is silent for a few moments before she says, “Do I have to kill him?”

“Sonia!” It’s accompanied by a shocked laugh, Leon turning his head back to her to see the sly smile on her face and the twinkle in her eye. He can’t help but smile himself, even if it is small. What’s with her, always knowing how to get himself out of his own head? They aren’t friends for nothing, he supposes.

Sonia pats his arm again. “You don’t have to tell me,” she says, her voice soft. “But I’m here for you regardless. And I _will_ throw his overgrown arse to the sharks if I have to.”

“Not to worry. I can do that myself.” He huffs out another laugh, which makes Sonia’s smile widen just a bit. They fall into a comfortable silence now, listening to the chatter from their crew and the waves that gently rock the ship. For a little while, in the presence of a friend, he’s able to let himself forget. What happened hurt, but he can move on like he always does.

_Until it happens again._

Leon won’t think about that.

He pivots on his heel, ready to help prepare the ship for their voyage, and then…

The resounding crack of gunfire makes them both startle, their gazes turning in the direction of where the lighthouse stands tall, high above Hulbury. It seems to make the world go silent for a moment, before Hulbury returns to its usual buzz. But Leon is still looking, watching two figures standing at the edge of the cliff, and he should mind his own business and carry on. It doesn’t involve him, things happen, but—

One figure falls.

Even from a distance he can recognize it, that orange bandanna and the dark locs; the strong and lean form of…

“Leon, isn’t that…”

Raihan plummets into the water. Leon acts without thinking.

“Get Nessa,” he breathes, throwing his hat to the side and kicking off his boots in record time. And he hoists himself up over the railing, takes a deep breath, and dives into the water. It’s cold despite the summer sun, or maybe it’s just the fear gripping him. He isn’t the best swimmer, but the adrenaline is enough to keep him going.

What happened, he wonders? What warranted Raihan getting shot, _who_ shot him? Someone he’s quarreled with in the past, or something deeper? Plenty of people want them dead, it’s just a part of this life, but why now, and why Hulbury of all places?

The saltwater tastes awful whenever it gets into his mouth. He almost gags on it. His heart beats rapidly, so hard it almost hurts. Raihan has to be okay, he has to be alive, Leon isn’t going to let him die here. Not when there’s still so much left to say. Not when Raihan doesn’t deserve to die.

He reaches the cliff, approximately where he knew Raihan fell. Leon wastes no time inhaling, then diving beneath the waves. The saltwater burns his eyes, it’s cloudy and hard to see, but he can make out the outline of a man slowly sinking further and further down.

Leon dashes forward, closer and closer until he’s able to reach out and grab the front of Raihan’s shirt. He’s not wearing that coat, so he isn’t as heavy as he could be, but he isn’t a small man by any means. A good foot taller than Leon, built with muscle beneath his clothes, and his unconscious body feels so much heavier than normal.

Blood is clouding the water around Raihan. Leon can’t tell where it’s coming from yet, but he supposes he’ll find out once they reach the shore. He gives a tug, pushes himself closer and drags one of Raihan’s arms over his shoulders, and wraps his own arm across Raihan’s back, pulling him close against him. There is no reaction, Leon can’t even tell if he’s dead or not.

He hopes, prays, that he isn’t.

It’s harder to swim with only one arm available, and his lungs are screaming for air. Leon manages to drag himself up to the surface, however, gasping as his head breaks through the water. He adjusts Raihan a bit more against him until the other is halfway on Leon’s back, then paddles himself towards the shore. He’s panting, his heart racing, face hot, but when his feet touch the seabed there’s a small flicker of relief. Leon wades as quickly as he can through the shallows, then drops to his knees on the shore, settling Raihan down on his back but supporting his head with one hand.

The wound is just below his ribcage, bloody and ugly. The bullet looks like it’s lodged itself in there, but it still bleeds around it. Leon curses softly when he sees it but first turns his attention to making sure Raihan is alive. When he touches his chest he can feel a heartbeat, but he isn’t breathing.

Leon swallows. He tips Raihan’s head back, is ducking his head down to fit their mouths together so he can attempt to get his lungs working again, but suddenly Raihan’s eyes are snapping open and he’s coughing wetly, shooting up onto his elbows before he turns over to cough up seawater mixed with bile onto the sand. Leon touches his back, rubs slow circles into it through his wet shirt, listens as Raihan coughs and gags and gasps before he slumps down into the sand.

Careful hands turn Raihan back towards him. The man blinks blearily.

“Am I dead?” Raihan asks hoarsely, then groans low in pain, a trembling hand touching the bloody wound. Leon can’t imagine the saltwater feels very good against it.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Leon replies. Raihan doesn’t protest when Leon swats his hand away, likely too exhausted to fight it even if he wanted to. He quickly unbuttons Raihan’s shirt, managing to pull it off of him so he can use it to apply pressure to the wound, all while Raihan lies there staring up at him. The man grunts, hisses through his teeth when Leon presses down firmly; the white fabric stains red.

He wants to ask what happened, but Raihan is in no shape to carry out a conversation just yet. He’s vaguely aware of a shaking touch against his thigh, however, but doesn’t let it distract him.

“Raihan!”

A woman’s voice makes his head snap up. Nessa is rushing across the shore, Sonia close behind. She drops to her knees at Raihan’s other side, reaching up to touch his jaw. She looks frantic, her eyes wide, so unlike the few brief times that he’s seen her before where she was so cool, so collected, unshakeable.

She looks up at Leon briefly, then turns her eyes down to where he’s applying pressure to the wound, lingering there for a few moments before meeting Leon’s eyes.

“The ship,” Leon says softly. Nessa nods, and the two haul Raihan to his feet. Raihan tries to walk, but his feet are dragging and he’s unsteady. Still, he isn’t complaining about the help. He isn’t saying much in general, probably too disoriented, too tired, hurting too much.

When they reach the Wyrmwind, the crew is in a panicked flurry, but lets Nessa and Leon through while Sonia chooses to return to the Champion Time. They bring him below deck, Leon letting Nessa lead, until they’re able to lay Raihan down on a cot for the crew’s doctor to take care of. Leon isn’t sure if he should leave or not, he knows it must look odd for him to be there, knows it must look strange how he leapt into the water to save their captain when they all think they hate each other.

He stays regardless. If they want him to go, they can tell him. He sits down heavily on a crate, his wet clothes clinging to his skin and the drying sea water feeling unpleasant, sticky. Leon stares down at his feet, can’t bring himself to look as the doctor arrives and speaks in low tones to Nessa. No one pays him any mind, not yet.

Raihan’s breathing is hard and heavy, Leon can hear it from here. He wants nothing more than to go to him, to comfort him, but he’s sure that would be unwelcome. All he can do is hang back, hope for the best, hope that this isn’t a fatal wound and that Raihan’s able to get out of this alive with only a scar to prove it happened.

There is movement out of the corner of his eye, the sound of footsteps, and when he looks up he sees that Nessa has moved to stand at his side. Her arms are folded across her chest and she’s looking ahead, focused on Raihan and the doctor. Though she carries herself strong and proud there is still worry evident in her eyes. She and Raihan are like siblings, Leon remembers Raihan telling him once upon a time. And he’s her captain. Of _course_ she’d be worried.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice soft. “For saving him.”

Leon stares at her, brows furrowing. That isn’t what he expected.

“I can’t say I saved him just yet. He could still—”

“He’s not going to die,” Nessa interrupts. “He’s too stubborn.”

It almost makes him laugh; he cracks a smile instead. Leon is sure she knows of Raihan’s stubbornness better than he does, having witnessed it first hand for years. If she’s sure he won’t die, then…

“He’ll be pissed, though,” she continues. “I don’t know who shot him or why. I sent some men up to the lighthouse to try to catch whoever was there—if they find them, they’ll bring them back here.”

Raihan lets out a groan of pain nearby, muffled around a piece of leather between his teeth. When Leon glances over, he sees the doctor working on removing the tiny bullet from where it’s wedged inside Raihan. He immediately looks away. It’s not like he hasn’t seen something like that before, but this time it feels too different.

He can feel the weight of Nessa’s gaze on him. There is a lull of silence between them, and then she says, “Come with me.”

A touch to his shoulder, then she’s breezing past him, her stride steady and almost elegant. Leon blinks, throws one more look at Raihan, then pushes himself back to his feet to catch up with Nessa as she returns to the deck. The sunlight feels too bright, too happy for a day like this. The world still carries on even when someone gets hurt, even when someone dies.

Leon has come to accept this, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hate it.

They stand together at the railing, listening to the seagulls flying overhead, the gentle lapping of water against the ship. Nessa isn't looking at him yet, her eyes on the sea. The silence feels suffocating more than anything.

"Why did you save him?" She finally asks.

Why? That's something he doesn't even know himself. It was almost instinctual, that immediate urge to leap into the waves when Raihan plummeted down from the cliff and disappeared beneath the surface with a heavy splash.

“I felt like I had to,” Leon decides to reply. Not a lie, but he isn’t sure whether or not it’s the _full_ truth. There were many other reasons why, most he doesn’t really want to consider, swarming about his head like a murder of crows.

“Even though he hates you?”

It takes all his power not to grimace at those words, regardless of how gently they’re spoken. Raihan hates him, has always hated him, but as of lately it seems like… maybe there is something else, maybe the hate is dwindling, maybe—

“Yes.” Leon works his jaw. “I don’t think he deserves to die because of that.”

Nessa is looking at him now. Her brows are pinched together, head tilted. “Do you hate him?”

That almost makes Leon laugh. Instead, he merely quirks his lips upward in a tiny, wan smile. He pushes wet hair from his face.

“No. I’ve never hated him.” He lets out a sigh. “I don’t even know why he hates me.”

Nessa’s mouth sets in a thin line for a moment, her brows furrowing tighter and wrinkling her forehead. Leon throws a glance at her again, just in time for her to look away from him. In the sun that casts its glow over her, he swears he sees the glimmering of something blue on the skin of her neck, mostly hidden beneath her braids.

It’s rude to stare, isn’t it? So he looks away and decides not to dwell on it.

“Raihan is… stubborn. And proud,” she finally says. _Not unlike me,_ Leon thinks. Strange how everything he learns about Raihan shows him that maybe they’re more alike than he initially thought. “Always trying to prove himself. I can’t… speak for him, you know, but I don’t think he knows how to deal with his anger.”

“Is he an angry person?” Leon can’t help but ask.

“In a way,” Nessa begins. “But, despite that, he’s still… kind, and gentle. Ever since we met.”

And Leon wants to know that kindness, that gentleness; he wonders what it would take to see it for himself, to have Raihan treat him gently when the world has been so cold and unforgiving. He doesn’t really understand why, but he yearns for it so much it hurts sometimes. That empty part inside of him aches.

“If it weren’t for him, I’d likely be dead,” Nessa finally continues, but her voice is softer now. Leon’s brows shoot up. She’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes on the water, something shining within them. “I owe him a lot.”

Not for the first time, Leon really realizes how much he doesn’t know Raihan, but Nessa doesn’t seem averse to telling him more. At least small bits of information, but Leon doesn’t want to pry too much, especially considering their circumstances. He can still see Raihan falling from the cliff, he can still see Raihan sinking unconscious with his blood clouding the water. If Leon had been even just a little too late, he might have—

“I’m glad he’s alive,” Leon admits. The silence between them after isn’t tense, or awkward. It’s filled with the sound of the sea, of gulls flying overhead, of people on the streets.

“Me, too,” Nessa finally says. “Thank you.”

They stand in silence for a while longer, until Leon figures he may as well return to his own ship. He feels he’s overstaying his welcome, and as much as he wants to make sure Raihan is okay, it’s best he doesn’t bring further attention to himself. Whatever they have remains a secret between them both, a secret Leon keeps for Raihan’s sake.

There is a sudden bustle of activity, however, with a group of men heading down the docks. The group is led by a petite young girl with pale hair and sharp, determined eyes, and they’re all surrounding _someone._ Leon can’t see from here.

“Ah, they found him,” Nessa says. “Captain Khanna, I’d like you to remain here. For now.”

She wants him to stay? Leon blinks, but he doesn’t argue. When she walks off, he hangs back, a hand on the railing and eyes focused on the approaching group. Nessa speaks quickly and quietly with the girl as they board the ship, before she steps aside so the group can head below deck. Nessa begins to follow, then pauses, looking at Leon again. After a beat, she beckons him to follow.

So he does.

—

The man is half-conscious when he’s thrown to the floor. His face is bruised and bloodied and it takes all of Leon’s self-control to not choke the life out of him himself. If anyone should do that, it should be Raihan.

Raihan, who sits up now, bandages stained red and his eyelids heavy from exhaustion. Yet, despite that exhaustion, rage flares in the depths of deep blue the moment his gaze lands on the beaten man in front of him. Leon wonders what he's going to do, if he'll snap or if he'll let the man walk free.

The latter seems unlikely.

They’re all waiting for Raihan to say something, do something, but he remains still with shaky, uneven breathing, every inhale sounding labored. Leon wants to tell him to lie down and rest, but he doesn’t think Raihan would listen to him, or anyone. All they can do is watch, wait, the air thick with tension.

And after what seems like an age of silence, Raihan speaks.

“Sit him up,” he says, voice surprisingly light, but there is still that barely-concealed fury in his eyes. One crewman is immediately grabbing the man by the back of the shirt, another is dragging a rickety wooden chair over, and he’s being forced into it. The bastard slumps over, too weak to do much of anything but just sit there.

When Raihan slowly stands, he’s a little unsteady on his feet. The doctor tries to catch his wrist, to guide him back down, but Raihan swats their hand away. Leon thinks Raihan might say something, might start demanding answers, explanations, but he doesn’t. There is nothing.

Raihan is silent for a long while, eyes focused on the man in the chair, something brewing in his gaze. And the silence is almost unbearable, the air is tense, Leon isn’t sure what’s going to come next.

Finally, Raihan opens his mouth. His voice is rough. “What did he do to you?”

Leon looks between them, a new confusion budding inside of him now.

The man doesn’t respond at first, his gaze still focused down. Blood is oozing from his nose, from his mouth. It’s almost like he’s accepted his fate, whatever that may be.

“Answer me,” Raihan says. “What did he do, why did you—”

“I told you,” the man finally croaks. “He took something from me.” A moment of quiet. “Something I can’t replace.”

Raihan swallows hard, looking troubled and frustrated and agonized. Leon wishes he could reach out to comfort him, but he’s sure Raihan doesn’t want that, would just push him away. And Leon knows better than to do that in front of Raihan’s crew, when no one knows what’s going on between them. Him immediately leaping into action to save Raihan from drowning might already raise some questions.

Then Raihan takes a step forward, slow and a little unsteady, and then another, and another. He doesn’t rush forward, he’s likely too exhausted, but when he stands right before the man he towers over him, casting him in his shadow, a dark figure looming. Leon watches closely, notices Nessa shift a tad at his side.

Raihan snaps. He practically lunges, his hands wrapped around the man’s throat, sending him and the chair falling back with a thud. He straddles his waist, presses down harder on his throat, his eyes wide and wild and teeth bared in a snarl. Leon knows not to interfere, but he can’t help the sliver of worry that Raihan is pushing himself doing this when he should be resting.

As though Leon hasn’t done worse while recovering from a serious injury. As though Leon ever gives himself a break.

The man struggles beneath Raihan, choking, trying to thrash, his legs kicking and his nails scraping down Raihan’s bare arms, drawing blood in their wake. But Raihan doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch, just presses harder and breathes heavily.

“Give my father my regards,” Raihan hisses, right before the man’s arms fall and his body goes limp.

Raihan doesn’t let go for another minute, like he’s making sure the man really is dead. The blood stain in his bandage has grown larger, there is sweat beading up on his forehead, and his breathing has grown harsher. He looks like he might pass out any moment now. Trembling hands slowly release their hold on the dead man’s neck, and Raihan begins to rise to his feet, maybe a little too fast, because he nearly collapses in the process. Leon moves fast, however, faster than even Nessa, to get to Raihan’s side and catch him before he crumples to the ground.

The other doesn’t react much, he just leans heavily against Leon and shuts his eyes, grits his teeth, swallows a groan of pain. Leon helps guide him back to the cot, where he lays Raihan down for the doctor to watch over him now. Worry eats away at him, he can tell Raihan strained himself too much, but…

A hand settles on Leon’s shoulder, startling him. He turns his head quickly to look over his shoulder, seeing Nessa behind him.

“We can take it from here,” she says. Leon opens his mouth, wanting to protest, but the words die on his tongue when he sees the look she gives him. It’s soft, gratitude swimming in the depths of her gaze, and… something else. Something that seems too… _knowing._

He doesn’t want to think about how much she might know, what realizations she may have come to.

“Are you sure?” He manages to ask, throwing another glance towards Raihan. The man already has his eyes shut, lips parted, barely responsive to the tending of his injury now. It’s hard to see him like this.

“I’m sure,” Nessa replies. “He’ll live. You don’t need to worry.”

 _Easier said than done,_ he thinks.

“I’m sure that I’m the last person he’ll want to see once he’s… lucid,” Leon murmurs when he looks back at Nessa.

Nessa tilts her head, lips twitching upwards. “You would be surprised.”

 _Huh?_ Leon blinks, but she doesn’t give him any time to ask about it. She’s ushering him away, guiding him back to the deck of the ship. He’s becoming extremely aware of his wet clothes and hair, how it all sticks to him uncomfortably. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks that he’ll need a bath, and might run off to the inn to use theirs again.

Lord knows he’ll spend that entire time thinking about Raihan and if Raihan is okay.

He might be thinking about that, worried about that, until he sees him next.

If he does.

Nessa seems certain Raihan will live, though. Leon can only hope that she’s right.

“Thank you, again,” Nessa says to him before he departs. “We’re in your debt.”

“I…” Leon bites the inside of his cheek. “No, there is no debt. I don’t want anything in return. Just…” He clenches and unclenches his fist. “Just that he recovers quickly.”

She nods with a little smile. “He’s strong. He will.”

Leon nods in return, takes a shaky breath, and then turns away. “I hope you’re right.”

Without waiting for a response, he leaves. He manages to walk tall as he returns to his ship, where he’s immediately confronted by Sonia, who grabs him by the shoulders. Worry is alight in her eyes. Hop is close behind.

“Are you… is he…” Sonia looks frazzled, her grip like iron, reminding him that she’s a lot stronger than she looks. Leon lifts his hands to her wrists, giving them each a gentle touch before guiding them away.

“I’m all right,” he says softly. “And he’s alive.”

She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. Any more of that and it may start bleeding.

“Will he be all right, too?” Hop pipes up behind her. The boy shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking nervous and uncertain. They’re both _so_ worried, so much more than Leon thought they would be. Not only for him, but for a man neither of them know very well. But Raihan has helped them in the past, and Leon knows it’s obvious that he _cares_ for the other man. Of course they would be worried.

“Nessa seems certain that he will,” Leon replies. “And I trust her judgment. I think.”

“You should,” Sonia says. She reaches out to grab Leon’s hands now. “When you jumped in after him, I was terrified that you might— you— I know you can’t swim very well, what if you had gone down with him—”

Leon squeezes her hands. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” is all he can say. “Both of you.”

Sonia hugs him, so sudden and tight that it makes him grunt. Hop joins in, and Leon feels… a little embarrassed about it. Especially since it’s right there in broad daylight in front of the rest of the crew. He ruffles their hair, smiling weakly and laughing breathlessly, before he manages to pry them off.

“We need to leave. Soon.” Leon looks down at himself, laughing again, sheepish this time. “Once I wash off. Sonia, keep an eye on things for me.”

“Of course, _captain_ ,” Sonia replies with a smile. She looks tired, but relieved. Leon feels guilty for contributing to that exhaustion. He steps away, and makes his way quickly to his cabin. Once the door shuts behind him, he hunches over with a hand covering his mouth.

Leon isn’t sure if he’s sick from anxiety or sick from swallowing sea water. Maybe a combination of both. He grimaces as he swallows bile, burning his throat all the way down. Raihan could have died, if Leon didn’t jump into action when he did he would have drowned and Leon doesn’t want to think about Raihan dying. Nothing would be the same if he did, everything would suddenly be a little too lonely.

He’s slept with many men, but none have ever gotten this close to his heart. It’s a painful feeling. He gags around another mouthful of bile.

Finally, he recollects his bearings and stands up straight. He fetches one of his few changes of clothes, and when he leaves his cabin Sonia is handing him his coat and boots. He slips his boots on before he leaves the ship, ducking his head down so no one can see the tired expression on his face as he walks through the streets of Hulbury. Leon doesn’t even think when he walks, doesn’t care if he gets lost on the relatively simple route to the nearest inn.

No one looks at him when he passes. Something he’s not used to—he’s always had eyes on him, but at the same time he’s grateful for it. He must look not unlike a wet cat right now, his clothes stuck to him and his hair raggedy and damp. Nothing like the proud and fierce Champion he usually is, or usually tries to be.

He doesn’t have it in him right now to try.

All he wants is to use a bath, and that’s all he says to the innkeeper. He’d use the one set up on the ship, but the crew need to preserve fresh water for their weeks at sea. A key is handed to him and with a nod of thanks, he makes his way upstairs, poking through the rooms until he finds the bath.

The water is warm, comfortably so, but Leon struggles to relax. His mind keeps wandering back to the docks, back to the Wyrmwind where Raihan lies bleeding and barely conscious. _Please, God, let him live._ Leon can’t lose someone- someone _else_ he cares about, even if Raihan might not even care about him in return. He wonders if he’ll remember who saved him, or if the fog in his brain was too great for him to notice when he woke up on the shore. Leon thinks back to the weak words Raihan said: _Am I dead?_ And then the light touch to his leg. And surely he must have noticed Leon on the ship, but he also was so focused on the man who shot him, and—

Leon grits his teeth and dumps a pail of water over his head, letting it wash out the soaps from his hair—but it doesn’t do much to snap him out of his thoughts. The water isn’t cold enough for that.

Now, he smells more of flowers as he usually does, along with a scent of patchouli that clings to his skin and distantly reminds him of his mum. He winces.

He doesn’t linger there, not thrilled with the idea of sitting in his own filth for much longer. He dries himself off, dresses, folds his wet clothes, and leaves, dropping the key in front of the innkeeper on his way out. Leon holds his coat under one arm, and he straightens his back and holds his head high as he makes his way back to the docks. Leon only gets a little turned around on his way back, though it does add a good ten minutes to what should be a five minute trek.

“Is everything ready?” Leon asks Sonia when he steps onto the deck. She casts a sidelong glance at him, thoughtful, looking a bit like she wants to ask him something but instead deciding against it.

“Yes, captain.” A beat of silence. “Are _you_ ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Then he steps away, briefly, just to return to his cabin to place his wet clothes down and take a few deep breaths. Composing himself, clearing his mind, trying to focus instead on where this voyage will take them instead of worrying about a man that doesn’t even like him.

Knowing him, it’ll still haunt him in his sleep just like everything else does.

Despite the summer heat, Leon pulls his coat on before he leaves his cabin and returns to Sonia’s side on the deck. The crew is in their places, pulling up the anchor, adjusting the masts, and all Leon can do is look out across Hulbury one last time as they depart.

Briefly, his eyes turn to the Wyrmwind once more, like he’s hoping to see Raihan.

He just sees Nessa, who he swears meets his eyes before she turns away.

—

**_August, 1735._ **

The night is dark, almost pitch black, the half moon hidden behind dark clouds that hint at the possibility of a storm. Hopefully one that isn’t too brutal and won’t throw them too off course. Leon isn’t thinking about that right now, because he’s fast asleep, curled up into a tight ball with his blanket pulled up to his chin. Cora sleeps on the floor at the foot of the bed, snoring softly, occasionally whimpering.

But Leon remains stuck in a dream.

_He stands on the beach, the white sand soft beneath his bare feet, the cool waves inches from lapping at his toes. It’s a warm summer day, absolutely lovely, the sky a bright blue and free of any clouds. Leon can’t remember the last time he’s been able to appreciate a day like this, free of any worries, just surrounded by peace and quiet save for the sound of birds and the gentle waves._

_In this dream, he and Hop are happy._

_In this dream, their father didn’t succumb to illness._

_In this dream, the King’s men didn’t take what was left of their family._

_He smiles as he watches Hop splash around in the shallows with Cora at his heels. A few strands of violet hair, loose from his braid, are pushed out of his face. The smell of the sea doesn’t nauseate him as much in this dream, he breathes it in happily. Soon, they’ll have to head back home for dinner, and Leon will sit and sew with his grandmother while his father and grandfather spoke loudly and happily, and…_

_Big, warm hands suddenly encircle his waist. They pull him back against someone large, solid, who presses their face against the crown of his hair and breathes in. Leon smiles wider, leaning back a few moments before he turns in their grasp. Golden eyes meet bright, clear blue, and he doesn’t remember ever seeing Raihan look this happy._

_“Is it time to go back already?” Leon murmurs, eyes fluttering shut when one of those warm hands comes up to cradle his face._

_“Not yet,” Raihan breathes. “I just wanted to spend time with you.”_

_Leon can’t help but laugh a little, smoothing his hands up over Raihan’s chest before they settle on his broad shoulders. There are no scars under those clothes in this dream, nor under Leon’s own. No signs of brutal hardships, hands never having to touch swords and only ever using guns for hunting. Life is good; difficult, sometimes, working with only what they have, but they’re happy._

_Raihan tips Leon’s chin further back, then ducks his head down. Leon’s eyes flutter shut the moment their lips meet, warm and achingly tender. Raihan’s hand moves to the back of Leon’s head, fingers loosening his braid, slipping through those thick, vibrant locks while his other hand guides Leon closer by the waist._

_It feels right. It feels perfect. It feels like this is how things should be._

_The kiss is broken but Raihan rests his brow against Leon’s._

_“Leon,” the way Raihan breathes his name is almost reverent. “I—”_

Leon wakes up with a start. For a minute, he stares at the far wall in some sort of odd shock. The dream doesn’t slip away from him this time, it remains in his mind no matter how long he lies there awake. His eyes are wide, lips parted, realization slowly beginning to dawn on him and with it, nausea building in his gut.

No, no, no. That’s not good, not good at all.

He throws off the blanket and climbs out of bed quickly, legs a little unsteady and knees a little wobbly like a newborn foal’s, but he manages to make his way to his desk where he lights a candle and hurries out of his cabin. Cora is scrambling onto all fours and following closely after him, her tail wagging anxiously as they travel through the ship all the way to the officer’s quarters.

If anyone will know what to do, it’ll be Sonia, right?

If she doesn’t try to kill him for waking her up at this hour, that is.

Leon doesn’t knock, he instead just opens the door to the dark cabin where Sonia sleeps peacefully, a still lump under a blanket. He swallows, then clears his throat. The lump stirs.

“Sonia,” his voice is barely above a whisper. The woman makes a soft sound, lifting her head up and blinking sleepily, her fiery curls a mess around her head.

“Leon?”

He swallows hard, looks over his shoulder, then back to her. He's now acutely aware of how hard he's shaking.

Sonia sits up, rubbing her eyes. “What’s—”

It tumbles out before he can stop it:

“I think I love him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> it sure has been nearly 3 months since the last update! i hope what happens in this one makes up for the wait... ahaha... oops
> 
> thank you guys so much for your patience and i'm sorry for the wait!!! your support means the world to me, never forget that!
> 
> and of course, there has been some fanart made!
> 
> the rooftop scene from chapter 10 by ShrapnelChan on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/ShrapnelChan/status/1299285729793642497)  
> very handsome leon by HHokori on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/HHokkori/status/1302604566467284992)  
> and another very tiny leon also by HHokori, [here](https://twitter.com/HHokkori/status/1304944774617546754)  
> very beautiful leon by cakerisi on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/cakerisi/status/1305904207493361664)  
> and also... pirate nyande and kibanya by fivemegos on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/fivemegos/status/1304501303565975553)!
> 
> also, happy birthday swsh!
> 
> thanks for reading!  
>    
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)  
> [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raihan knows they’ll meet again.
> 
> They always do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh captain, let's make a deal, [where we both say the things that we both really feel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkpoW0c9QxI).
> 
> ( this chapter contains explicit sexual content.
> 
> the first part of this chapter is raihan's pov of the events of the fic my friend seb wrote for me for my birthday. read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366377) for the full experience! )

**_November, 1735._ **

Raihan lies in his bed, the room shrouded in darkness with only the glow of the moon offering any sort of light. He's still awake, and from the sound of it, so is much of his crew. Sleep doesn't come easily these days, he's finding himself plagued by more nightmares than usual—especially after he killed the man that took the most important person from his life away from him.

He remembers the gunshot, swallowing water, blacking out. He remembers waking up on the sand and throwing up saltwater and bile, then looking up to see a hazy view of brown skin and violet hair. Fingers had touched Leon's thigh, trying to figure out whether it was all real or if he really was dead.

_ Did he save me? _

It's been gnawing at him for a while, among many other things. Like when they finally met again two months later and Leon’s expression was nothing short of relieved. Raihan had touched him gently that night, as if in silent thanks, and drank up every sigh and whimper that Leon made as he buried himself into him.

Was he imagining that tender look in Leon’s eyes then, he wonders?

Raihan lifts his hand, letting the thin chain of a silver necklace dangle from his long fingers. Hanging from it is a small cross, the shine of it a little dull from how much Raihan would rub his thumb over it. It used to belong to his mama, many years ago, and he often finds himself looking to it for some sort of comfort, some way to ground himself.

He had never been the religious sort, but his mama had been. She had been a lot of different things, most of them wonderful. She deserved so much better, Raihan knows if she were still alive his life might be so much different. There had been times where she mentioned taking Raihan back to the family she ran away from to have him, where he could grow up in comfort and love and luxury. So much different than he lives now.

Lips purse as he stares at the cross, and images begin to flash through his mind.

_ His feet hurt so much from running, his head is heavy from lack of sleep. It's been two days since he ran for his life, two days since a stranger broke into his home and shot his mama dead. There is no way that man will still be there, right? Waiting for Raihan so he can kill him, too. _

_ It's a risk, Raihan is scared, but he is also a child. The severity of the situation is still sinking in. _

_ There are some things he wants to get before he finds his father. That is the only reason he's returning. It's late at night now, no one is around to see him open the front door with a shaky hand and step inside. It smells bad, he thinks, but he begins to make his way through the familiar rooms. _

_ Until he reaches his mama's sitting room. _

_ He freezes. He had thought someone would have noticed by now, would have come to take her body away, but— _

_ The sight makes him sick. There she is, lying there in a lifeless heap on the floor in a pool of blood that still hasn’t dried, more blood and brain matter splattered on the wall and furniture behind her. There is a hole in the middle of her forehead, her eyes are wide and glassy and her lips slightly parted. There is no warmth left in her brown skin, leaving her looking sick and gray. _

_ A fly lands on her cheek, but when Raihan moves closer it zips away. _

_ It’s not his first encounter with death, but it hits harder, hits worse. The first time he remembers their cat passing away from old age when he was six, he remembers burying it under a tree out back, his hands trembling as they rest a few plucked flowers on top of the small, fresh mound of dirt. _

_ But a dead cat is nothing compared to the sight of his dead mother. _

_ Tears fill his eyes, stinging and hot, then spill down his cheeks. He inches closer, hands trembling. Voice small, he squeezes out, “Mama?” _

_ No response, of course there is no response, but he is just a child and he still struggles to understand. Maybe part of him hopes that the wound will close, the blood will disappear, and she’ll rise to her feet and hold him close. _

_ She doesn’t. _

_ Raihan lets out a choked sob. He stumbles over, dropping to her side and pressing his face into her nightgown. The smell of blood is sickening, dizzying, it makes him want to throw up. He doesn’t, not yet, he simply sits there and sobs for… he doesn’t know how long. All he wants is for her to hold him, tell him it’s okay, sing to him like she always did to calm him down. _

_ He wants his mama so, so badly. _

_ But he needs to find his father, his father will help him, right? _

_ So with shaking hands, he reaches over to unclasp the necklace from around his mother’s neck, and he finds her little Bible sitting at the small, round table beside her chair. Both are stuffed into the pockets of his coat when he manages to find it and pull it on. He has to be strong, and brave, just for her. But the tears still fall unbidden, he sniffles and sobs, and he just wants her back. _

_ He’s just a child. _

_ For the second time, Raihan flees into the night. This time, he doesn’t come back. _

Raihan grinds his teeth, eyes falling shut. He pushes the memories back, far back, locking them away again until they inevitably haunt him in his dreams.

Speaking of which, he really should try to sleep.

So he sets the necklace aside and rolls over, eyes falling shut, breathing evening out.

And just as a heavy fog begins to settle over his mind, he hears commotion up above that makes him stir. The voices of his crew are loud and… panicked? Raihan’s eyes snap open and he sits up quickly, scrambling out of bed to pull his shirt, his coat, and his boots on. Blade at his hip, he leaves his cabin in a rush, hastily tying his bandanna around his head as he goes, and practically barrels right into Nessa on his way up.

Even she looks panicked, her blue eyes wide.

“I was just coming to get you,” she says, grabbing him by the elbow.

“What’s going on?” Raihan asks, allowing her to drag him along until they’re on the deck. Despite the season, it’s not all that cold out just yet, but he knows soon that the air will become frigid and biting. The moon glows up above, painting everything around them silver.

Nessa throws him a glance, biting the inside of her cheek. “See for yourself.” Then she looks away, turning her attention back to the sea.

Raihan follows her gaze, and in the light of the moon he can make out what looks like something in the water. At first he thinks he could chalk it up to a trick of the light, but then why would the entire crew be worried? How could they all see it? He doesn’t know what he’s looking at until there is movement, a flash of glowing green eyes, water running over silver scales, and then he realizes.

_ Dragon. _

They’ve stumbled into a dragon’s territory.

That… isn’t good.

It hasn’t attacked yet, but he’d rather not sit around and wait for it.

“What are you all waiting for?” Raihan asks his crew, trying to remain as calm as he can when he’s just as concerned. “Change course, quickly. We need to leave before—”

The sound of something breaking through the water interrupts him. Water spills off of the dragon’s back, drips from its wings as it stretches them out, then it lets out an ear-piercing shriek that seems to be enough to snap his crew out of their stupor. A few double over, clutching their ears, but the others jump into action to spin the ship around, to speed up and hopefully outrun the beast if it gives chase.

Which it does, naturally.

“Cannons!” He barks. A few of his crewmen try to fire off arrows at the creature where it charges after them in the water, but that only serves to agitate it further. It’s fast, too fast, they’re not going to be able to outrun it, are they? Raihan draws his blade, the ship makes a sharp turn so they can fire off a canon, but it misses by a hair. They turn again, Raihan just barely managing to keep his balance.

No matter how fast they go, no matter how long they’ve been fleeing, the dragon continues to give chase. He’s never fought a dragon before, but he was always fascinated by them. Now that he’s had this encounter, he’s not sure how he’s going to feel about them after.

If he lives, that is.

Nessa is at his side again suddenly, grabbing him by the arm. “There’s another ship approaching from the east.”

Another ship? With his luck, it’ll be the Navy, and he’ll have to deal with two problems at once. Unless the dragon will shift its focus to them instead and give the Wyrmwind time to get away.

“Do we know who it is?” Raihan asks as he moves across the deck with Nessa in tow, stopping at the quarter deck, turning his head to make out the shape of a ship approaching in the dark. It’s moving quickly.

“It’s the Champion Time,” she replies.

Something in his chest tightens, his heart skipping, breath catching in his throat. What are the chances they would meet out here, in the middle of the ocean? Especially when Raihan is currently trying to get away from a bloodthirsty beast.

Said bloodthirsty beast is now breaking out of the water again, spreading its wings, and shrieking once more. Nessa flinches, a few men fall over with their hands over their ears, but Raihan remains standing tall even if he thinks his ears may bleed.

There is the crack of cannon fire again, this time not coming from his ship. A cannonball crashes into the water near the creature.

Is the- is the Champion Time trying to help?

It serves to draw the dragon’s attention away from the Wyrmwind for now. It turns, lunging from the water as arrows fly towards it. It remains unfazed by them and Raihan watches as it lands on the other ship’s deck, rocking it violently, claws digging into the wood. And it stands there, looming over—

_ Leon. _

“Do we go?!” One crewman asks desperately. “It’s distracted, let’s—”

“No,” Raihan replies quickly. “We won’t leave them to deal with it alone. Get closer.”

The crew looks confused, frightened, but follows orders regardless. Raihan watches as Leon attempts to take on the dragon by himself, jolts when the dragon shrieks again as a blade slashes through its silvery scales. It rises up, then brings down its claws upon the man who manages to just barely avoid a grievous injury.

And the closer they get, the more Raihan can make out what looks like  _ fear _ in Leon’s eyes. Anyone would be scared in his position, but he can’t remember Leon ever looking so scared. Not even when his brother was kidnapped, where Raihan knows he was masking his fear and worry behind anger. It doesn’t feel right, or look right.

Suddenly, without warning, the side of the Wyrmwind rams into the Champion Time. Raihan stumbles, barely managing to keep himself from tumbling over the railing. There isn’t any real time to process what happened, he’ll have to survey the damage from the collision later.

He looks back up, just in time to see Leon rolling across the deck until his back slams into the railing. The dragon regains its balance and Raihan finds himself desperately thinking,  _ Leon, get up, get up, move, now, or you’ll— _

_ No. _

Raihan grips his sword tight and jumps, closing the small gap between their ships, landing heavily on the dragon’s back but giving it no time to react as he plunges the blade down into its neck. He pushes it in deeper, all the way up to the hilt, the beast crying out weakly before it collapses. Raihan manages to jump off just in time, pulling the blade out as he goes and leaving blood spurting and oozing from the wound.

He doesn’t afford the creature one more glance, instead making a beeline to where Leon is slowly sitting himself up. The man is staring, eyes wide, and he still looks a little dazed. Did he hit his head? Is he all right? There is still blood seeping into his blouse, Raihan hopes the wound isn’t too deep, and—

Is he actually  _ worrying _ over Leon?

Hopefully it doesn’t show when Leon meets his eyes. Raihan forces himself to push that worry down as he holds his hand out to the other man, who stares at him a moment longer before accepting the hand offered and letting Raihan assist him in hauling himself up.

Their hands linger together for a moment before Raihan lets go, letting his arm drop to his side. Leon looks a little shaky on his feet, Raihan is almost tempted to reach out and steady him. He decides against it, and soon enough Leon’s regained his balance and is throwing a look towards the dragon. Raihan follows his gaze, then turns his eyes back to Leon’s face.

“Do you… want it?”

What kind of question is that? Raihan resists the urge to snort in disbelief. Maybe Leon  _ is _ still a little dazed.

“No, not really,” he responds.

A few moments of silence when their eyes meet again; the tension in the air is palpable. The question is there, swimming in Leon’s eyes, but Raihan chooses not to answer it.

Instead, he breaks the silence with, “I thought you might die.” No emotion betrayed on his face, his voice even. Almost like he was never worried to begin with, almost like his own fear didn’t cause him to literally leap into action to save the other man from a gruesome death.

He won’t let anyone else important to him die.

Yes… Leon is important to him. Raihan doesn’t get it, he doesn’t like it, but Leon means something to him.

“I thought I might die, too,” Leon replies.

Raihan opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off by another voice.

“Leon!” Hop calls out. Around them, Leon’s crew is beginning to regain their bearings. Hop is rushing over and Leon is immediately pulling him into an embrace. Raihan watches quietly while sheathing his blood-stained sword, noting that Hop looks a lot stronger now. Stronger than when they first met, when Raihan saved him. There is still a scar on his brow, a permanent reminder of what he went through. “Leon, we’re about to—”

When the ship comes to a sudden stop, Raihan doesn’t have time to react when the brothers tumble and fall into him. The three of them fall, Raihan hitting the railing while Leon and Hop’s fall is cushioned by his body. He’s momentarily stunned, an ache shooting up his spine, but he manages to come to when Hop sheepishly finishes with, “...Reach shallow water.”

Leon is scrambling to his feet again, calling out an order to drop anchor. Raihan looks over towards his own ship, seeing where Nessa is watching with her brows knitted together.

“Nessa, you too,” he calls. The woman nods. He pushes himself to his feet, watching as Leon walks across the deck to where their ships had collided. Right, he needs to see what damage has been done. He approaches Leon, stopping at his side.

“You’re lucky,” Leon says to him. “Looks like there isn’t any permanent damage.”

Raihan can’t help the little smirk that crawls onto his face then. He dips his head down, warm breath ghosting over Leon’s ear and he swear he hears Leon’s breath hitch. “Lucky, am I?” His voice is low, almost a purr, not unlike how he speaks when… “I thought you were the lucky one tonight.”

Leon swallows. “We should all get rest.”

It almost makes Raihan laugh. Instead, he just pulls back, turning on his heel to walk just a few feet away to climb onto the railing, jumping across and back onto his ship with ease. One more glance is thrown Leon’s way, a casual salute is given, before he turns to face a worried Nessa and frazzled crew.

The woman stares up at him, lips parted. She looks equal parts worried and confused. How much did she see of that exchange? Hopefully not enough to really get her questioning anything.  _ That _ is not a conversation he wants to be having right now.

“Are you all right?” She finally settles on, looking him over a few times.

“Perfectly fine,” Raihan replies. Save for the ache in his back from hitting the railing, he sustained no injuries. “What about the crew?”

That dragon’s wail had a few of them collapsing, covering their ears, crying out in pain. They’re all back on their feet again, a few still somewhat dazed but otherwise appearing unscathed.

“They’ll survive,” Nessa says. She looks back at the Champion Time and Raihan follows her gaze for a moment, just in time to see Leon taking long, purposeful strides in the direction of his cabin. Even in the dark, Raihan can see the slight grimace on Leon’s face. He’s doing his damnedest to not show any sort of pain, Raihan can relate to that: that feeling of being terrified to show any sort of vulnerability.

Except he’s seen Leon vulnerable many times now, maybe more than Leon’s own crew has, and Raihan made the mistake of allowing himself to crack in front of Leon.

Or… was it really a mistake? He isn’t sure.

“I wonder what they’ll do with that dragon,” Nessa murmurs. Raihan blinks, taking his eyes off Leon just in time for the man to disappear from sight. Right, the dragon. It’s lying in a motionless heap on the other ship’s deck, still oozing blood in a thick puddle. That will definitely be a bitch to clean, he thinks.

He looks away with a soft sigh through his nose. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

Nessa hums. Raihan rolls his shoulders, then surveys his crew. A smile, one he hopes is marginally comforting, pulls at his lips.

“Everyone, get some sleep,” he says. “Be ready to leave in the morning.”

The crewmen all nod, beginning to saunter away, a few likely going to check with the doctor first about their ears. Raihan sighs softly through his nose before turning his attention back to Nessa.

“You, too,” he says. She lifts her brow, but just nods.

“So long as you do, too,” she says. “You haven’t been sleeping much these days.”

Before he can respond, she’s turning on her heel and walking away. Raihan blinks, staring after her, then frowns. It’s not like she’s wrong—he hasn’t been sleeping very much, for reasons he’s not entirely sure of. Sure, maybe the nightmares play into it, but…

Instead of thinking about it, he returns to his cabin, where he sits at the edge of his bed and stares at the wall for what seems like forever. He can’t get what had just transpired out of his mind, how Leon could have died if Raihan were just a second too late, how Leon looked up at him with wide eyes sparkling gratefully. How Leon is… right there, right now, his ship just outside. It’d be easy for Raihan to pay him a visit tonight.

So he does. Raihan stands up again, stretching his slightly sore spine and then leaving. The night is quiet, save for the waves and soft winds rustling the masts. The deck is empty, and Raihan makes sure it’s the same on the Champion Time before he quickly, quietly makes his way over and jumps the small gap between the ships. He steps down from the railing, glad that the wood doesn’t creak under his weight.

When he passes the dragon, he gives it a hard stare. Those green eyes, once glowing, are now dull and glassy as they stare at nothing. Raihan works his jaw, furrows his brow, then looks away. He continues his walk to his familiar destination, keeping his footsteps as silent as he can, listening for any sounds of any wandering crewmen. But there is nothing. They’re all likely asleep, or trying to be. Some may be with the ship’s doctor, but nowhere nearby.

Raihan takes a deep breath in front of the door of Leon’s cabin, then pushes it open. There is the soft glow of candlelight illuminating the figure lying on the bed. Leon doesn’t even tense, doesn’t jolt upright, instead merely murmuring, “Raihan.”

Instead of responding, Raihan shuts the door behind him and takes long strides towards the small bed. It groans a little under his added weight when he kneels on it, looming over Leon as he rolls the man onto his back by his uninjured shoulder. He inches further onto the bed to straddle Leon’s hips. It’s a familiar sight, Leon lying beneath him like this, hair pooling around his head.

Still, it’s different this time. Raihan looks Leon over, eyes flickering over his bare chest and then further down before traveling back up, lingering on the bandaged wound. Should he ask if Leon is all right? There is worry again, building up heavily in his gut.

“Do you not want to tonight?” Raihan asks. Leon stares up at him, lips parted, and it takes all of Raihan’s power not to flinch away when a hand lifts and knuckles brush over his cheek in a way that’s almost  _ tender. _ Raihan can’t help but tremble a little, half of his brain telling him to run away and the other telling him to remain, to accept it.

He accepts it, for now.

“Hold me?” Leon’s voice is soft, his tone bordering on uncertain. Raihan peers down at him, his throat suddenly feeling dry, teeth working his bottom lip. But… he doesn’t say no. He simply nods, then ducks his head down to mouth along the length of Leon’s neck. The urge to mark him is strong, but he chooses not to tonight. Just a hint of teeth here and there, Leon letting out soft whimpers beneath him that are almost enough to make him hard.

Finally, he maneuvers them both so he can fit on the bed, lying on one side while Leon is pressed close against him. Arms wind almost protectively around Leon’s waist, fingers pressing into warm skin. Raihan leans his head in to press a kiss to Leon’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

Leon pushes his locs from his face with a careful hand, but Raihan doesn’t let himself react. He doesn’t have the urge to jerk away this time. Maybe that means something.

He feels Leon nestle even closer and press his head against his chest. Raihan, not thinking too much about it, draws the front of his coat over Leon like an extra blanket. It’s almost big enough to cover them both at the same time.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Leon says, teasingly. Raihan manages not to scowl, but there is a flare of annoyance.

“You didn’t.” A lie. He did. Raihan was scared, even if he won’t admit it. If Leon had died, Raihan doesn’t know what he would do, because the thought of a life without Leon there doesn’t feel  _ right. _

“Because you hate me?”  _ Yes. No. I don’t know. _

Raihan doesn’t respond. Leon doesn’t press further, just nuzzling into his chest and evening out his breathing. It takes a few minutes, but Leon eventually falls asleep in Raihan’s arms while Raihan lies there with his eyes closed. He doesn’t know for how long, but he doesn’t allow himself to fall asleep there.

Leon fits perfectly in his arms, he’s so warm, and holding him feels right. One hand strokes along Leon’s spine and the man sighs contentedly in his sleep. Part of Raihan really doesn’t want to leave, but knows he has to. So he can get back to his ship, so he can run away from these confusing feelings.

Careful not to jostle the other man too much, careful not to wake him, Raihan pulls away—but not before pressing a kiss to the crown of Leon’s head. He climbs off the bed quietly, walking towards the desk where the candle still flickers, and extinguishes the flame. Before he leaves he lets himself throw one more glance to the sleeping figure on the bed, his heart telling him to go back. But he doesn’t.

He leaves the cabin, still managing to avoid being spotted, and pauses by the dragon again, staring into its open mouth.

Raihan purses his lips. Reaching over, he takes hold of one fang and  _ pulls _ with all his might. It takes a good amount of effort, a good minute of pulling, but he manages to yank it out with a grunt. He stares down at it, weighs it in his palm, then pockets it.

When he returns to his ship, to his cabin, stripping himself of most of his clothes, he thinks of Leon again.

Thinks of his smile, his laugh, the gentle touch of his hands. Thinks of the soft lilt of his voice, the dusting of red on his cheeks and the sparkling of his eyes when he talks to Raihan.

Raihan buries his face into his pillow and manages to fall asleep, thoughts of Leon still lingering in his mind.

Early in the morning, Raihan and his crew rise. They don’t wait for the Champion Time’s crew or their captain to wake up before they’re preparing to leave. Nessa hasn’t said anything to him yet, but she keeps stealing glances.

It doesn’t feel right to leave without a word, but they do so anyway.

Raihan knows they’ll meet again.

They always do.

—

**_December, 1735._ **

It’s cold, predictably.

Not as cold as it could be; the water is still pleasantly warm, and the sun is actually out today, not concealed by storm clouds like it has been the past few days, seemingly no matter where their ship goes.

There  _ is _ a slight dusting of snow across the streets of Circhester, clinging to the rooftops, likely to linger for a few more days before melting completely. The townspeople carry out their errands bundled up in warm fabrics, the wealthier in fine furs, and Raihan has been eyeing the visibly rich. He remembers being a child and being forced by his father to confront noblemen and women and demand the riches from their purses, but usually with little success.

(Which meant an angry father waiting for him back at the ship.)

He tears his eyes away and instead looks up at the clear blue sky, breathes in the ocean air. The breeze makes the masts flutter above him. It’s a peaceful day, they’ll be here until the morning, and Raihan thinks that maybe tonight he’ll swing by the tavern and have a drink. It’s something he hasn’t done in a while; he’s not a very pleasant drunk, after all. The last time he was in a tavern weeks before—on his birthday—he got into a drunken brawl with another patron.

… Yeah, this time he’ll monitor his alcohol usage. Just one drink.

That’s what he said last time, but he means it this time.

Raihan gives Ludo a scratch behind the ears before the dog goes running off to bark at the seagulls. He adjusts his coat, luckily heavy enough to ward off the cold somewhat, and without a word he leaves the ship. The wooden planks of the dock creak under his weight, almost like they’re threatening to give out, and Raihan thinks for a moment that maybe someone should come fix it up. God knows how old it is, anyway.

He pointedly ignores the other ship docked nearby, with its beautiful wood and the golden flag waving high above, and the all-too-familiar crew bustling about on the deck. Raihan hasn’t seen Leon since the night with the dragon, but he supposes they’ll run into each other at some point during the night.

Maybe he’ll have more than one drink after all.

Or maybe not. He doesn’t fancy the idea of being drunk when they fuck. He knows Leon wouldn’t sleep with him, or anyone, if he was intoxicated anyway. One of the too many good things about him, and something they have in common.

Raihan’s been learning more and more things they have in common the past few months. It may have been infuriating before, but now it only serves to confuse him further and cause a whole plethora of new emotions to bubble up.

Stuck in his head as he walks through the streets of Circhester, boots splashing in puddles caused by melted snow and a light drizzle of rain the night before, weaving past townsfolk (though, for the most part, they make room for him to pass, likely both due to his size and also wariness), he misses the flash of purple that comes barreling his way.

… Until it crashes straight into his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him onto his ass. Leon takes a tumble as well, his hat falling off as he falls forward, right on top of Raihan.

A few onlookers snicker, but Raihan still hasn’t completely processed what happened enough to be embarrassed. He blinks a few times, watching as Leon groans and props himself up onto his elbows. The man lifts a hand, rubbing it over his face.

“Ugh, sorry, I—” Leon stops, staring down at Raihan. “Oh, hello.”

“Hello,” Raihan says slowly. A moment of silence, then, “Are you going to get off of me?”

Leon blinks at him, slowly registering what he said, before heat blooms across his cheeks. He quickly pulls himself off of Raihan and scrambles to his feet. “Right!” Ah, seeing Leon so embarrassed is almost… cute, and Raihan can’t believe he just thought that. The thought is chased away soon after when Leon holds out a hand to him. “Again, I’m sorry, I was… in a hurry.”

Raihan accepts the hand offered and hauls himself up to his feet. He dusts his trousers off. “For what?”

“My, uh, reading lessons,” Leon replies, almost sheepishly, as he gathers his hat off of the ground. “Sonia expected me back sooner, but I got a tad turned around.”

Raihan raises his eyebrows. “Just a tad?”

“Yes, and there’s no guarantee I won’t get lost again.”

He vaguely recalls Leon telling him once that he was godawful with directions. It takes a lot of self control not to laugh, but apparently he doesn’t have enough of that self control to stop himself from saying: “I could show you back.”

The man before him looks surprised, his mouth opening and closing over and over, that heat blooming further across his face and down his neck.

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Leon replies, rubbing his jaw.

“It isn’t.” Raihan turns around, back towards the way he came. He throws a glance over his shoulder to make sure Leon is following him, then sets off with Leon in tow. They walk in silence for some time, and it isn’t really as awkward as Raihan expected it might be. He shortens his long strides just enough for Leon to be able to keep up, keeps his hands in the pockets of his coat, and keeps his eyes forward. Even when he finally asks, “What did you do with the dragon?’

“I’m sure you know many men would do anything to get their hands on authentic dragon hide,” Leon responds. “Makes tough leather, and their scales are perfect for armor. Witches and wizards use their eyes and teeth often.”

“So you harvested from it and sold the parts?”

“Yes, we did. Sold, or traded for other goods. And you took a tooth, didn’t you?”

Oh, so Leon noticed the missing fang? It sits in his cabin now, on his desk next to his jar of ink. He’s still been contemplating on what to do with it, even considering fashioning it into a crude dagger. But maybe just some sort of good luck charm would work, too.

“I did. Hopefully that isn’t a problem.”

“It was your kill,” Leon says. “Really, you should’ve been the one to take everything from it, but you left before I could offer.”

Raihan works his jaw. “Had places to be.”

“As one does.”

They fall silent again, but Raihan’s fallen in step beside Leon, who keeps throwing glances up at him. Obviously trying to be subtle, but failing. Raihan considers teasing him about it, but decides to show him some mercy. He’s already frazzled enough, Raihan figures he won’t add onto that further. They’ll have plenty of time for that later, maybe, if things go as they usually do.

When Leon is finally looking away, Raihan glances at him from his periphery. He still smells like flowers under the sea breeze, and his hair is swept back over his shoulders. His jaw is looking stronger these days, Raihan notes, but he still retains some of that softness in his cheeks. And he’s still handsome as ever.

Raihan looks away once they reach the dock. “Here we are.”

Leon grins wide up at him. “Thank you, Raihan.” He takes a few steps forward, suddenly stops, then turns around to look up at him. Raihan tilts his head to the side just slightly, curious about the look on Leon’s face. Almost like he’s trying to pick Raihan apart with just his eyes.

Daringly, Leon reaches out to brush his hand over Raihan’s chest.

_ In broad daylight?! _

It’s a wonder Raihan doesn’t jerk back like he’s just been branded.

“Will I see you tonight?” Leon asks, voice soft. Now it’s Raihan’s turn for heat to flood his face, so quickly it almost dizzies him.

“I— yes,” Raihan croaks. “Where?”

“Ionia Inn,” Leon replies. “I’ll wait for you.” His thumb rubs over a button on Raihan’s shirt and Raihan wants to smack his arm away. Not because he doesn’t enjoy the gesture, but because he doesn’t want everyone  _ seeing _ it. “There’s something I want to try, if you’ll let me.”

“We’ll see,” Raihan says as he finally pulls back. His embarrassment must be obvious, given how Leon is smirking at him. “Go, Sonia is waiting for you.”

Leon grins, nods, and turns on his heel. “See you tonight, Raihan.”

Raihan bites back a groan.

—

That night comes faster than anticipated, and the moment Raihan is through the door of the rented room Leon is grabbing him by the front of the coat and dragging him into a bruising kiss. Raihan grunts, kicking back to slam the door shut behind him, and he’s whirling Leon around to shove him up against it. The man sighs into Raihan’s mouth, bites at his bottom lip playfully, one hand tangling itself in Raihan’s locs and the other clumsily unfastening the buttons of his own shirt.

Raihan is glad to help him, moving his hands to Leon’s front to pop open the buttons and push it off of his shoulders, exposing the heaving breasts underneath that Raihan immediately gropes at. Leon lets out a shaky breath, head tilting back against the door, leaving his throat exposed for Raihan to mouth along. He sucks a vibrant mark into the column of Leon’s throat, groaning softly when Leon’s knee presses up to grind between Raihan’s thighs.

He’s already achingly hard, already ready to pin Leon down and bury himself deep inside, making Leon whine and cry out and—

“Wait,” Leon gasps out suddenly. Raihan pulls back immediately, his hands dropping from Leon’s chest to hold onto his hips. Leon’s own hands are now pushing Raihan’s coat off and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “I told you, there’s something I want to try.”

Right, he remembers, but there’s still a small flare of annoyance. As Leon slips away to the satchel sitting on the floor, Raihan gets to removing his clothes as he makes his way to sit down on the bed. His cock is leaking already, desperate for stimulation, because he hasn’t fucked in a while and his hand really is a poor substitute for…

“Here,” Leon breathes. What he pulls out next takes Raihan a moment to figure out, but only a moment. It’s long, thick, and metallic, glinting in the candlelight. Raihan thinks that it might be gold at first, but upon closer inspection he can tell it isn’t— brass, maybe? He isn’t sure, but he is very aware how… phallic it looks. There’s a ring at the bottom, like it’s meant to be fitted into something.

Whatever that something is must be what’s in Leon’s other hand. A leather harness of sorts with multiple buckles. Raihan is far from clueless about things like sex, but this is certainly not something he’s seen before, and realization about what it is and what Leon’s planning to use it for hits him hard and fast.

His mouth goes dry. Leon holds the harness in the bend of his arm as he fishes out one more item: a little bottle of yellow oil. It’s thrown his way, landing with a muted thump right next to Raihan, and then Leon is walking over to sit down next to him.

“It won’t be my first time using it,” Leon admits, which reminds Raihan yet again that he’s far from the first and only one Leon’s ever fucked. Something akin to bitter jealousy rises up like bile in his throat, but he swallows it down. The other is weighing the object in his palm, and then fitting it into the front of the harness. “We don’t have to, if you’d rather not.”

Leon’s free hand comes to rest on Raihan’s leg. The touch feels like fire, but he doesn’t pull away. Raihan is struggling to find the words, his lips parted but nothing coming out. What he wants to say is a little embarrassing. It’s not like he’s never partook in anal sex, he’s just never been the one to—

“I’ve never—” The rest of his sentence stops halfway up his throat; he swallows, turning his eyes down.

Leon watches him closely, a hand on his leg, so close to his cock which gives an anxious little twitch. When Raihan looks up, it’s just in time to see realization dawning on Leon’s face.

“You’ve never had anyone there?” His voice is soft as he rubs his thumb into the soft flesh of Raihan’s inner thigh. All Raihan can do is nod. It's something he's avoided—it feels like it allows a vulnerability he doesn't show often and wouldn't show just anyone. Except Leon is here, looking at him with such a gentle gaze, touching him so carefully, and Raihan thinks that maybe it will be okay.

"I'll make you feel good," Leon promises.

Raihan stares at him, nervous and uncertain, but the way Leon looks at him puts him at some ease.

“Okay,” Raihan says softly. Leon smiles at him, leaning in to capture his mouth with his own once again. It’s careful, gentle, their mouths moving together languidly. Raihan uses both of his hands to help Leon out of his trousers and underclothes, then settles them on his hips to pull Leon into his lap. The other goes willingly, arms encircling Raihan’s neck as he kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him.

Before he knows it, Raihan is being pushed down onto his back while Leon hovers over him. That smile remains on the other’s face as he kisses from Raihan’s lips, all the way down to his chest, his belly, tongue swiping out over his navel and then further until—

Hot breath ghosting over his cock makes him jolt. Leon is reaching over to find the bottle of oil sitting in the sheets nearby, pulling the cork out with his teeth, then dumping some of it on his fingers before he sets it on the bedside table so it won’t spill. Before Raihan can really register what’s going on wet, hot heat envelops his cock in one go. His hips jerk, his cock hitting the back of Leon’s throat and making the other man gag once.

“Sorry,” Raihan wheezes. God, what’s wrong with him? He’s acting like a virgin.

Leon doesn’t seem to mind, though, he just moves his head with ease like he always does, swallowing Raihan down over and over with that too-skilled mouth. Raihan lets out a low moan, eyes fluttering shut, only for them to snap open the moment he feels something lightly prod against  _ there. _ He lifts his head to look down at Leon and sees how his arm has moved, and what he’s feeling against his hole is an experimental, oil-slick finger.

Briefly, Leon pulls off of his cock and says, “Relax, it’ll hurt if you stay so tense.”

Which Raihan is aware of. It’s something he’s said to past partners before as he prepared them, his own fingers and cock covered in the lubricant. It’s just  _ weird _ to be on the receiving end now. He swallows, then nods. Taking a deep breath, he does his best to relax. One finger finally begins to push inside, causing Raihan to bite down hard on his bottom lip, sharp canines threatening to pierce the skin. Leon is working slowly, obviously trying to get Raihan used to it, and the effort really is appreciated. The finger works into him carefully while Raihan tries to control his breathing and not clench down  _ too _ hard.

As if that feeling wasn’t overwhelming enough, Leon takes Raihan’s cock into his mouth again just as he’s slid his finger in right up to the knuckle. Raihan hisses through his teeth, one hand flying down to grab Leon by the hair, earning a muffled laugh around his cock. Is this really funny to Leon?

That finger slowly drags out, only to push back in again, right as Leon gives a particularly hard suck. Raihan gives a shuddering gasp, his thighs twitching, toes curling. The finger slips in and out of it easily, aided by the oil, until Raihan’s thighs are beginning to tremble. There is a pause then, where Leon pulls off of his cock again and asks, “Can you take another?”

“I can try,” Raihan gasps out. Leon smiles up at him, prodding a second finger against Raihan’s hole as he drags his tongue along the underside of his cock. It slides in with relative ease and Leon wastes no time in pumping those fingers in and out at a steady pace. Raihan’s free hand comes up to his mouth, where he bites down onto his knuckles to muffle his whimpers and whines.

Suddenly, when Leon’s fingers push in all the way, they brush against  _ that spot _ inside of Raihan and Raihan almost yelps in surprise. Leon blinks up at him, snickers, and rubs his fingers against it again. Raihan nearly chokes on his own spit, eyes widening, and  _ oh, God, it feels so good— _

“Leon,” Raihan whines around his knuckles. He releases his hold on Leon’s hair, his hand dropping to the blankets and fisting into them.

“Is this good?” Leon breathes. Raihan nods a few times, eyes squeezing shut. His thighs are trembling, his cock aches, everything is so  _ overwhelming _ and Raihan swears he’s tearing up a little. Leon gives his cock a little kiss at the tip then sits up slowly, keeping his fingers moving and pushing against the gland inside of Raihan. He leans over, kissing the corner of Raihan’s mouth before claiming his lips again.

He lets Leon take control of the kiss, his arms encircling the other’s neck and keeping him close. Raihan sees stars when he closes his eyes, it feels like there are sparks shooting down his spine, and he swears he might come just from this. He’s so close, he can feel it, his sounds are getting progressively louder the closer he gets.

… But Leon’s fingers suddenly slide out, making Raihan feel agonizingly empty, aching. His cock leaks against his belly, desperate for release. Leon kisses his forehead and murmurs, “Give me a moment.”

Leon pulls away, leaving Raihan panting and shivering. Raihan watches Leon as he grabs the harness and rises from the bed. It’s pulled on carefully, Leon then fastening it in a few places so it won’t come loose, before he returns to the bed and kneels on the edge.

“Here,” Leon says, dropping the bottle of oil into Raihan’s palm. It nearly spills onto the sheets, but Raihan catches it just in time. “I’ll let you do this.”

Raihan squints at the bottle, then glances back to Leon, then drags his eyes down to the brass cock. Leon’s cock. He won’t lie and say he isn’t a little intimidated, but he won’t let that stop him. Slowly, he sits up, then coats his palm in oil, adding more to Leon’s cock for good measure. It’s cool to the touch when he takes hold of it, but when he pumps his hand over it the metal grows a tad warmer.

They kiss again, tongues brushing, breaths mingling, until Leon decides he’s prepared enough and pulls back from it. “Lie back down.”

With a nod, Raihan settles onto his back again. Leon coaxes his legs apart then pushes them back for better leverage, letting one rest over his shoulder. The tip of the cock nudges against Raihan’s hole, making him tense up again, but Leon’s careful, gentle hands on him help him to relax. There are a few moments of silence save for their heavy breathing, and then Leon begins to push inside. The intrusion makes Raihan clench down with a gasp, his hands flying up to grab Leon’s shoulders and dig his nails into his skin.

“It’s okay,” Leon breathes. “Just relax. Trust me.”

_ Trust me. _ Raihan whimpers again, but nods. He tries to steady his breathing as he begins to loosen up again, enough that Leon can further push inside of him. It’s a foreign feeling, but not unpleasant, it will just take some getting used to. His grip on Leon’s shoulders loosens when Leon finally pauses, his cock halfway inside of Raihan now.

A shallow thrust is given, making Raihan jolt. Then another. “Is this okay?” Leon asks.

“Y-yes,” Raihan manages to choke out.

“Does it hurt?”

Raihan shakes his head.

Leon turns his head to press a kiss to Raihan’s leg, then gives another shallow thrust. The more he moves, the faster Raihan gets used to the feeling, and the strange sensation is quickly melting away into something pleasurable. Leon leans forward, pushing Raihan’s legs back further, then suddenly in one fluid motion his cock is sliding in all the way. Raihan groans loudly, hips jerking.

The man above him hums, giving a roll of his hips. It’s slow, careful, experimental. Raihan gasps. His hands drop to the sheets again, gripping onto them painfully tight while his teeth bear down on his bottom lip. He looks down to where his cock is leaking against his skin, where Leon’s hips are beginning to move at a steady pace.

Weak sounds are pulled from his throat; desperate sounds, ones he can’t remember ever making before. It feels odd, it feels  _ good, _ and somewhere in the back of his mind he chides himself for never trying this sooner.

He shuts his eyes tight, breathing hard through his nose, but Leon suddenly pauses and Raihan’s eyes open again.

A gentle hand settles on Raihan's cheek, hot skin against hot skin, and it's enough to make Raihan meet Leon's gaze. He stares up at the man above him, marvels in those glittering golden eyes and the violet locks that spill over his shoulders.

He's so beautiful. It takes Raihan's breath away every time.

Leon pushes a few stray locs from Raihan's face as he moves his hips again. The motion smooth and slow, the head of his cock grinding into Raihan's sweet spot and making him throw his head back, gritting his teeth.

“Good boy,” Leon whispers, sending a shock down Raihan’s spine. Raihan lets out a sound nothing short of embarrassing, a needy keen as he arches his back, while Leon laughs breathlessly above him. He thrusts again, hitting that spot inside of Raihan over, and over, and over. More of those sounds are pulled out of him, growing louder the longer they go.

Raihan didn’t realize he could get  _ this _ loud.

The hand remains on Raihan’s face, Leon’s thumb pressing to his bottom lip.

“This is a good look on you, Captain Kinsley,” Leon croons. Raihan blinks up at him blearily, opening his mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a needy little whine. Drool pools in his mouth, dribbling from the corner of his lips. Leon leans further forward to kiss him for a few moments, then he’s suddenly pulling back and pulling out. “Okay, turn over.”

It takes a moment to process the command, but when he does he quickly rolls onto his belly. Leon settles behind him and takes hold of his hips, lifting them up, positioning himself before pushing in with one swift motion. Raihan cries out, one hand reaching towards the headboard to hold onto it tight.

“You’re so noisy,” Leon hums. “I never would have guessed.”

Raihan wants to bite back, give some sort of scathing retort, but when Leon grinds into him like  _ that _ all coherency flies out the window. All he can do is give a breathless whine of, “Leon. Please.”

“Please?” Leon gives a sharp thrust. “What do you want?”

Lips move, but he’s struggling to get the words out. Leon pauses, giving him a moment to get his thoughts in order. “Harder. Don’t- don’t stop. Please.”

Leon is silent for a moment, Raihan can feel the weight of his gaze on him, and then he’s moving again. The pace is punishing, enough that Raihan thinks he may have bruises where Leon’s hips hit him, and each thrust inside hits the sensitive little gland inside of him that makes him outright sob in pleasure. And he only gets louder when Leon snakes a hand around to grab his neglected cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts.

“Captain Kinsley,” he coos, running his free hand down Raihan’s spine. “You’re going to wake up the entire inn.” That hand grabs Raihan by the hair and shoves his face down into the pillows. It muffles Raihan’s cries just a little bit, but not by much.

He can feel the impending orgasm, the pressure building in his gut, the unbearable heat. It’s swiftly approaching. Into the pillow, all he can muster in warning is, “Leon, gonna- gonna—”

“Go ahead,” breathes Leon, swiping his thumb over the tip of Raihan’s cock. Raihan sobs, his hips jerking and legs nearly giving out as he comes into Leon’s hand. Tears leak from his eyes, his whole body spasms, and Leon fucks him through it until he’s finished emptying himself into his fingers and over the blanket.

When Leon pulls out, Raihan slumps down onto his belly, breathing roughly into the pillow. He still twitches on occasion, letting out soft whimpers. Behind him, he can hear Leon unfastening the harness and dropping it to the floor. Raihan swallows thickly, his throat feeling dry and raw; he’s not sure what comes next.

But gentle hands are on him again, coaxing him to roll onto his back. He looks up at Leon, who is looking him over with a soft gaze.

“Are you all right?” Leon asks, finally meeting his eyes.

Raihan squints, brows furrowing, but nods. “‘m fine.”

Leon dips his head down to kiss Raihan’s cheek. Raihan tries not to think about how tender the gesture is. “You enjoyed it?”

“I did.” Raihan inches over a little to make room for Leon, who wipes his messy hand on the already-ruined blanket before settling beside him. The movement makes Raihan aware of an ache forming at the base of his spine. That’ll probably last for a while. He turns his head to peer at Leon, illuminated by the candlelight. “Wait, did you…”

“Hm?”

“Come. You didn’t get to—”

“Ah.” Leon gives a sheepish laugh. “Don’t worry about that. I can take care of—”

“No, let me… just…” Raihan manages to turn onto his side, his hand running from Leon’s chest, over his abdomen, then pushing between his thighs where he’s sopping wet. He slips two fingers inside with ease, fucking Leon with them steadily.

It doesn’t take long for Leon to come with a gasp and a full-body shudder. Raihan pulls his fingers out and Leon smiles shakily up at him. “Thank you.”

Raihan hums. Leon is turning over to face him fully, and they stare at one another for a few long moments. Then Leon reaches out, pulling Raihan to him, tucking Raihan’s head under his chin—and Raihan lets him. He listens to Leon’s heartbeat, the steady thumping grounding him, and he closes his eyes.

He breathes in the smell of Leon, sex and sweat mingled with flowers. At this point, it’s become a soothing scent to him. And still he wonders…

“Leon,” he mumbles. “Why d’you keep flowers in your cabin?”

Leon is silent for a few moments, which makes Raihan think he must have fallen asleep. Except he finally takes in a deep breath and says, “The smell of the sea makes me sick.”

Not the answer he was expecting. Raihan opens his eyes, blinking.

“Then why spend your life at sea?” He can’t help but ask. Is he overstepping bounds? For some reason it’s all starting to tumble out, these curiosities he’s never voiced before out of fear of getting  _ too close. _ But he thinks he’s already grown too close long ago.

“It was that, or my brother and I die on the streets.” Leon is stroking Raihan’s locs. “There wasn’t a better alternative.”

Turning to piracy to escape the streets—a common story, but not something he expected from Leon. With how Leon acts, with his reputation, one would think he was born into it. Raihan always knew he wasn’t, everyone knew he wasn’t, but it’s still strange to hear from Leon’s own mouth.

“I see…” Raihan presses his forehead to Leon’s collarbone.

“Why did you choose this life?” Leon asks, making Raihan freeze up. Naturally Leon would ask, since Raihan asked  _ first. _ “There’s still so much I don’t know about you.”

Is it okay to tell Leon?

It’s an invitation to open up, but what happens if Raihan opens up too much? What will Leon think? Will Leon hurt him? Raihan hasn’t spoken about his life before piracy to anyone but Nessa, and even then it was always vague. But right here, right now, Raihan thinks it might be okay. If Leon wanted to hurt him, he would have by now, right?

It’s okay.

It’s safe.

“I didn’t have a choice either,” Raihan whispers. “My mama, she got killed when I was just a boy.”

Leon remains silent.

“By someone my father wronged. The man who shot me, you remember? The day you saved me.”

“I do remember.”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t know any of my mama’s family. But I knew where to look for my father, and…” Raihan moves his arm to wrap around Leon’s middle. “She always spoke so highly of him. She really loved him. And… he didn’t love her.”

There are tears forming in his eyes now, hot and stinging. They leak out, running down his nose.

“She died for nothing. He didn’t shed a tear when I told him, and I knew then that I hated him. But I still joined him. I couldn’t do much else.” He takes in a shaking breath. “Mama would be so disappointed if she saw me now.”

Leon moves his hand to rub slow circles into Raihan’s back. The gesture is careful, gentle. Raihan is acutely aware that he’s trembling now. What kind of talk is this to have post-sex? Why is he opening up  _ now _ of all times?

“I don’t think she’d be disappointed,” Leon finally says. “I think she’d be proud that you’re still alive, despite everything.”

“But I’m,” Raihan chokes on a sob, “horrible.”

He’s hurt people. Killed people. Not all of them deserved it. He’s been angry and selfish and took it out on people that had done nothing wrong. Took it out on Leon, who still holds him and speaks to him so gently. Who keeps coming back, no matter how many times Raihan tries to tell him he hates him.

Raihan doesn’t hate him anymore. He doesn’t know what he feels anymore.

“You’re no more as horrible as I am,” Leon murmurs. “You did what you could to stay alive.”

Raihan sniffs, screwing his eyes shut. “But—”

“Hush.” Leon presses a kiss to the top of Raihan’s head. “You’re worth so much more than you think.”

He falls silent, trembling against Leon, silent tears falling. This is the second time he’s cried in front of Leon, but this time he doesn’t feel the need to run away. This time he lets himself be vulnerable, lets Leon hold him and whisper soothing words to him.

“Go to sleep, love.”

_ Love? _ Raihan finds he’s too tired to think too much about that. He supposes it will come back to haunt him later. “Will you be here when I wake up?” He asks, voice uncharacteristically small. A selfish thing to ask when he’s left a sleeping Leon in bed many times in the night, before he could even wake up.

“I will,” Leon promises. He rests his cheek against Raihan’s head and begins to hum, the melody low and soft. Raihan nestles closer, his face pressed to Leon’s shoulder, and he lets that melody carry him to sleep.

He knows when he wakes up, it will be to Leon’s smiling face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo yeah oh yeah woo yeah
> 
> *throws a nearly 10k word chapter with 3k words of porn at you all as an apology for how long the last update took* bottom raihan nation this one's for you
> 
> i wanted to mention in the notes of the last chapter but forgot: i started a new job back in august, so it'll definitely affect update speeds.
> 
> more LOVELY ART has been made!!!
> 
> adorable doodles done by fivemegos on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/fivemegos/status/1329153961476034560)!  
> gorgeous pirate raihan done by tinypalettes on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/zhamusiel/status/1331747039521234949)!
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel)   
>  [tumblr](http://hellfirecitadel.tumblr.com)


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